


X's On The Calendar

by dean_n_pie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Community: deancasbigbang, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, all-human AU, ambiguous ending, i am so glad im done with this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2528837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_n_pie/pseuds/dean_n_pie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak lived an ordinary life in an ordinary town. He worked at his older brother's bakery and had a few good friends. He lived with Gabriel in his apartment, and didn't really think about life outside of Lecompton, Kansas. Charlie tried to set him up on dates, he ignored her, and Gabriel was... well, Gabriel. </p><p>Until Dean Winchester walks into his life. </p><p>Castiel is sucked into a whirlwind romance filled with Star Trek quotes, swimming naked, and family dinners. There's drama, tragedy, and maybe even a little bit of love. Or a lot. </p><p>And it all started because Dean just wanted some apple pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	X's On The Calendar

**Author's Note:**

> God this has been a labor of love (and hate, and despair, and general annoyance with my own writing) but now we are finally here. Posting day. And what a day it is. Now I can actually go write other fanfic, because I was literally so behind on this fic that I had to ban myself from writing others while I wrote this (p.s. it didn't work). 
> 
> I'm not gonna pretend here. This isn't a fic that tooks months of dedication to write, that I honed and shaped until it was beautiful and pristine and flawless. I finished editing it about, oh, twenty minutes ago? and just said "fuck it, here it is, i'm not good with writing on a timeline" 
> 
> I don't like this fic. A lot of what I had planned to do didn't actually happen because I procrastinate like a pro, and while it is almost completely grammatically correct, I'm sure there are as many plot holes in this fic as there are in the show. That doesn't mean the fic is bad, exactly... I just realized that I could have done this entire thing a lot better, more methodical, and probably ended up with something that I personally liked. 
> 
> And honestly, if one person likes this fic, then I feel like I've done my job as a fic writer (using that term verrrrrry loosely here)
> 
> Also, I tried challenging myself to write Cas' point of view, only to realize too late that I can't actually do that successfully and still have my original writing style. 
> 
> But I digress.
> 
> Well. Time for thanking the countless people who made this story happen. 
> 
> Darcy, because I bounced ideas off of her and bitched to her about the story and about how much I didn't want to write it and we just commiserated together (miss u). Thanks for listening to my bitching and whining and my half-coherent plotlines that I thought were genius but didn't actually make a whole lot of sense...
> 
> To Miriam and Emily, my fan-fucking-tastic beta's who pointed out my horrible grasp of accurate pronoun usage and my run-on sentences that never really seemed to end. And for putting up with my horrible communication methods because I'm pretty sure I ignored this fic from June until like, August when I realized that, oh, hey, drafts are due in 15 days and I'm not half done, yay!  
> But seriously, you both were absolute lifesavers and I cannot thank you enough for your work. The fic would suck even more without you.
> 
> To Rachel/[archiought](http://archiought.tumblr.com/), my lovely artist who is sweeter than Gabriel's sweet tooth and created what is quite possibly the most beautiful fanart I've ever seen. I literally don't deserve you, what you made is gorgeous. 
> 
> (sometimes I wish I could draw, like, at all. but no, I'll leave that up to the actually talented people, such as Rachel herself)
> 
> To anyone who looked at any of my complaining posts on tumblr about this fic and responded, thank you as well :)
> 
> And thanks to the mods for running a great fest, if I come up with an idea I'll be back next year (but to be honest, I think I'm just gonna focus on writing Sabriel for a while. it's more fun for me)
> 
> Now after that long-ass message that I'm assuming a lot of you didn't read (which is ok), please enjoy the fic!
> 
> (oh and by the way, the title of the fic is taken from Panic! at the Disco's song 'Calendar')

Pontiac, IL | 2035.

The sun has just begun to rise over the trees, shining a dappled light onto the surface of the pond. A house perches on the slight incline from the pond, deck extending over a small, neglected, garden of grass and weeds. On the dock sits a middle-aged man, knuckles resting lightly on the arms of a porches swing. His wrinkles make him look older than he is, marks of a lifetime of stress and tragedy. He stares out at the water, watching the patterns of the light in the rippling water.

The back door crashes open and the man is crushed in small arms, a high-pitched voice giggling into his ear.

“Uncle Cas, you gotta help, Bobby is trying to lick me!!” the little girl-stage whispers, in the revolted way only a child can. Her nose is twisted into a small scrunch, and Castiel pokes it gently before untangling himself from her grip. She pouts up at him, brown eyes expressing her disgust.

“And why is Robert trying to lick you?” Castiel asks, turning Mary around so that she can fit in his lap more comfortably. She squirms around so she can face the door, keeping a watchful eye out for her brother. He chuckles, pulling her closer to him.

“Because he’s icky!” she exclaims, giving Castiel her patented ‘how-could-you-not-know-that’ face. She huffs out a breath, slowly explaining to him. “Bobby is a boy, and boys have cooties, Uncle Cas. Everyone knows that.”

“And what about me? Do I have cooties?” Castiel counters, nudging her with a tap of his chin. Mary just laughs, hitting him softly on the arm.

“No, silly. You’re different. Only little boys have cooties. Like Bobby.” She nods wisely, grinning at Castiel. He smiles back, and Robert chooses that moment to burst through the door. He smirks and reaches toward Mary, exaggeratedly spitting into his palm. She shrieks and pushes back against Castiel, kicking out with her foot. Robert just dodges the kick and advances, laughing. “Stop! Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

“Robert,” Castiel reprimands, holding the boy away from his sister with a hand. “She asked you to stop.”

“Fine,” Robert says, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re no fun.” He sticks his tongue out at his sister and she reciprocates, imitating her twin brother’s stance. Castiel shakes his head fondly, pulling the boy up into his lap as well. He sits like that for a moment, Mary and Robert’s heads resting against his shoulders. He stares over the lake, closing his eyes against the breeze that stirs his gray hair. It smells of springtime, of a freshness in the air, and Castiel breathes it in.

“Uncle Cas?” Mary says, hand tracing along the side of Castiel’s neck, over a small, splotchy scar. He had told her that the scar was a mark from the angels, at which point her mouth had dropped open, looking up wonderingly at her uncle. She loves the mark, and he’s never had the heart to ruin her faith with the truth. He looks down at her, kissing the top of her head softly.

“Hmm?” he says, pulling her and Robert in closer to himself. It’s moments like these that he craves, when he can hold his niece and nephew close and simply relax, drawing comfort from their simple presence. It’s why he always asks Sam and Jess to let him watch the kids when they go away for the weekend.

“Can you tell us a story?” she asks, voice quiet. Castiel feels her mouth moving against his shoulder as she talks and smiles, stroking along her hair. Robert mutters something from his other side and he leans closer, trying to catch his words.

“I want a fun story, something with guns and action. Boy stuff,” Robert whispers, hands clenched in a fist on his stomach. Mary makes a disgusted face, nose scrunching up. She opens her mouth to say something but Castiel shushes her, readjusting the two on his lap.

“It’ll have both,” he reassures them, kissing Mary on the cheek. Robert grins and curls in closer to him, pushing his nose into Castiel’s neck. He gives a dramatic sigh, stroking his chin softly as if in thought. The water laps on the beach and Castiel stares at it thoughtfully, choosing which story he could tell. He snaps, whispering a soft, “I’ve got the perfect one,” to the kids. They both gasp in delight and he ruffles their hair, causing Mary to pout up at him.

“It was about, say, 30 years ago. I was twenty-one and working at your Uncle Gabriel’s bakery,” Castiel begins, shifting in his seat to lean his back against the chair. The kids shuffle off of his lap and perch next to him, staring at him with entranced eyes. “He had inherited some money from our parents and built a bakery, called Tricksters & Treats. I was at school at the time, but he still begged and begged and begged-”

“Okay, we get it,” Mary whines, hitting Castiel gently on the arm. “Keep telling the story!”

“Fine, fine.” Castiel chuckles, holding his hands up in compliance. “Anyway, after some… unexpected circumstances, I went to work with Gabriel. I enjoyed the work, and it was nice to become closer to my brother. After all, we were all we had then; we’d wake up early and go to bed late. The bakery was Gabriel’s pride and joy, and I loved it too.

“And this is where the story starts…”

~~

Lecompton, KS. 2004. April.

Castiel unlocks the door to the café, pen between his teeth as he holds the door open for his brother. Gabriel stumbles through, carrying two boxes full of breads and pastries. Castiel holds tightly to the large box balancing precariously in the crook of his elbow, following Gabriel inside and shutting the door behind him.

Gabriel places the boxes down with a grunt, rubbing at his sweaty forehead. Castiel does the same, placing the box on a nearby stack of chairs. He pulls his sleeves up; Even in the spring the heat was hard to handle, the sun beating down upon the land and spiking the temperature up to the 80’s. Gabriel collapses into a chair, fanning himself with a spare pad of paper.

 

Castiel rolls his shoulders, stretching them after the heavy lifting. He walks over to the counter to inspect the till and pull out all the trays and platters.  Only a few crumbs remain on the countertop that were missed during closing the night before, so Castiel sweeps them off into the garbage.

"Gabriel, we're opening in an hour. You should be cooking."

"Yeah, yeah." Gabriel waves his hand nonchalantly, still leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. "It's so damn hot, no one is gonna want a warm pastry," he complains. "We should have taken the day off." Yawning, he stands and shuffles over to the counter, pulling aside the gate and making his way to the kitchen. Castiel watches him go, then resigns himself to arranging all the pastries on his own. The sound of a sizzling pan drives Castiel to begin, knowing fully well that he won't get any food from Gabriel if he doesn't finish opening first. He grabs both the box he's been holding and the scissors, running the edge through the tape. He pulls aside the top and begins moving the pastries to the tabletop, to then be put on the trays.

Humming under his breath, Castiel arranges all the pre-baked and frozen pastries that Gabriel had brought. The trays go back in the display case and he goes to the back, where Gabriel is waiting with a small cinnamon roll and a slice of quiche. He grabs a cup of coffee from the machine, sitting down at a nearby table. Gabriel takes a bite of the cinnamon roll, moaning in delight.  

"Bro, I don't understand how you make these. They're heavenly." Gabriel licks the icing off of his fingers, grinning over at his brother. He hands Castiel the plate of quiche, but he shakes his head.

"I'm not hungry, Gabriel."

"Listen, kid, it's not healthy to forego breakfast for coffee." So says the man with six cavities, who doesn’t participate in Halloween anymore because “why give all the candy to snot-nosed brats”.

"Then you're either insane or masochistic ,” Castiel mumbles, automatically defensive whenever someone mentions his love of coffee. He can stop drinking at any time, if he wanted. It's just that he doesn't particularly want to. "Probably both."

Gabriel snorts. "Yeah, whatever."

Castiel drinks in silence, enjoying his brother's presence. They eat breakfast together every day before opening the shop - well, he drinks coffee and Gabriel begins cooking in preparation for the day. It's become a tradition in the few months that worked here. In about an hour, the place will be booming, and he revels in the few last moments of quiet.

The bell on the door rings, and a female voice calls out, "Hey, guys, I'm here!"

"In back, Charlie!” Gabriel calls, peeking his head around the corner of the kitchen. In walks a short redhead, who Castiel greets with a smile and a wave.

 

Charlie started working for them a couple months back, after Gabriel realized that he and Castiel couldn't do it alone. She was honestly a godsend, able to work the weirdest hours with barely any complaint. Sometimes she'd go over to their apartment for dinner, and it always seemed to end with Gabriel and her getting close to a fist fight over the symbolism in a Tolkien book.

"Hello, Charlie," he says, wiping off his mouth with his napkin. She breezes by and drops a light kiss on his cheek, squeezing his arm.

"Good to see you, Cas," she responds warmly. Charlie grabs an apron and ties it around her waist quickly, brushing by Gabriel as she goes. Gabriel reaches out to pinch her arm, and Charlie responds by swatting him.

"What, no hello for me?" he teases, tossing a plate in her direction. She catches it, miraculously, and wags the plate at him threateningly.

"Not if you're gonna throw plates at me," she warns, tossing the dirty plate into the already overflowing sink. She gets to work immediately, punching in and beginning to clean the plates that Gabriel has already used.

Castiel takes it as his cue to begin his own work, and hands his own plate over to Charlie. "Thanks."

"No problemo, Cas."

He ties on his own apron and grabs a set of gloves, going back to work. He grabs the pastries and starts laying them behind the glass wall. A quick glance at the clock reminds Castiel that they should be opening soon.

The morning light is beginning to filter in through the windows and Castiel makes sure all the shades are pulled up to let in the light. The air conditioner is also on pretty high, but Castiel still opens the nearest window. He closes his eyes against the slight breeze, grinning. It feels like summer, and he pulls off his gloves.

"I'm opening up," he calls back to where Charlie and Gabriel are bickering. He gets a grunt from both of them before they return to their arguing. He smiles; it's just like any other day.

Honestly, if Charlie and Gabriel weren't fighting, Castiel would think one of them was ill.

Castiel flips the sign from 'closed' to 'open', resting his forearms on the windowsill for a moment. Outside, there's a dappled light shining on the road. Gleams of light pass through the windows from cars driving by, and Castiel has to cover his eyes against the glare. His lips pull up in a soft smile, watching as people walk down the street casually. His thoughts are broken by Gabriel's voice calling him.

"Castiel!" Gabriel shouts. "We need your opinion!"

With a resigned sigh, Castiel pulls away from the window and goes back behind the counter. "Yes?" he says, sticking his head around the door to the kitchen.

Gabriel is pointing a pair of his tongs at Charlie, who stands there with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

"She has a new girlfriend."

"She does?" Castiel comments mildly, looking over at Charlie. "Congratulations."

Charlie grins at him before turning her glare back on Gabriel. "See, some people react the right way."

"What's her name?" Castiel inquires. Gabriel groans and turns dramatically back to the stove. Charlie sticks her tongue out at his back and again, Castiel feels like the most mature one there, which is funny, considering he's the youngest.

"Her name is Gilda, and we met at ComicCon last month. We exchanged numbers and were talking over Facebook for a while." Charlie blushes, no longer making eye contact with Castiel. "She's coming up to Lecompton in a few days, and we're gonna meet up."

 

"Good for you. I'm glad you're happy, Charlie."

"Thanks, Cas."

"Now it's your turn," Gabriel cuts in, exchanging a devilish grin with Charlie. The only thing the two of them agree on is that Castiel needs a relationship too.

"Yeah, Cas," Charlie adds, winking at Gabriel. "I mean, Gabriel has Kali -"

"Had Kali. I had Kali, and now I don't because she's actually a psycho bitch," Gabriel interjects, pointing a knife in Charlie's general direction. His face is closed off like it always is when Kali is brought up. Castiel sends a sympathetic glance in his direction; Gabriel hadn't even told him the whole story of the breakup, but he knows enough about it that he feels bad for his brother.

"Please, we all know you two will be back together in a month. You can't stay away." Gabriel flips her off, smirking sarcastically. "Now, it's Castiel's turn."

"I'm really not interested," Castiel tries to deflect, shrugging. He really wasn't; he'd met a lot of people during his work at the café, and he hadn't been interested in any of them. Not in that way, at least.

"Sure you're not." Charlie winks at him over her shoulder before turning back to the sink.

The bell rings, signaling the arrival of a customer. With an exasperated glance (really, Charlie has been trying to set him up ever since she started working at the shop, and it hasn't worked yet) over at the sink, Castiel ducks back around the corner and greets the customer with a grin.

It's one of their regulars, a self-acclaimed psychic named Missouri who Castiel absolutely adores. She always orders the same thing, and she was a huge help to Gabriel when he was trying to get the business started. She lives right outside of Lawrence and always makes a trip at least once a week to see the boys.

"Missouri! It's good to see you," Castiel says, reaching over the counter to kiss her cheek. "Gabriel!" he hollers into the kitchen, making sure that his brother comes running. Gabriel's eyes light up when he sees Missouri.

"Missouri!" Gabriel exclaims, going around the counter to wrap her in a tight hug. She squeezes him back, and Castiel grins at the two. "I haven't seen you in too long, ma'am. The usual?”

"Of course." Missouri has a sweet voice, and Gabriel had been wrapped around her finger since the second she walked into his shop. She's probably the only adult Gabriel holds any amount of respect for, and she knows it. And uses it, to Castiel's amusement.

Gabriel salutes her and with a, "Be right out," hurries back into the kitchen. Missouri watches him go with a fond smile on her face before she turns back to Castiel.

"How are you holding up, Castiel?" Her eyes are kind, and Castiel finds himself feeling relaxed and calm. She reaches out to grab his hand and her face changes, turning softer. "Oh, honey, today is gonna be a good day for you, I can tell."

Even though Castiel doesn't really believe in psychics, he still feels somewhat reassured by her words. She pats him on the cheek once and glances over at the door. Gabriel comes bursting through the kitchen with a bag balanced in his arms and a cup of coffee held in his hand. With a grin he hands them to Castiel, who hands them over the counter to Missouri.

"There's a little special treat in there for you today, Missouri." Gabriel saunters back into the kitchen, waving at Missouri before disappearing. Charlie sticks her head around the corner and gives Missouri a little wave.

Missouri grins back at her and winks. "That girl of yours is a keeper, honey."

Charlie outright beams at her before saying goodbye and going back into the kitchen. Castiel doesn't even have to punch her total into the register; it's been long enough that he's memorized the amount. She hands over the exact amount and Castiel thanks her.

She promises to return next week and Castiel watches her leave with a fond grin. Missouri has been the one constant in his life - other than Gabriel - and he wouldn't trade her for the world. After she leaves business picks up, and Castiel is kept busy for most of the morning.

It's the morning rush, and both he and Charlie are forced to man the registers. Eventually, the line almost runs out the door, and they're ringing up customers as quickly as they can. "Time to hire someone else," Castiel mutters to Charlie, who nods in agreement. Castiel makes a mental note to bring it up with Gabriel later that night, and hands someone back their change with a strained grin.

At least most of the customers are polite. Some choose to remain behind and eat their food in the little shop, and Castiel smiles at the way they talk with their friends. The atmosphere in the shop is a positive one; almost everyone feels comfortable here.

Lecompton is a small town, and there aren't a lot of people whom Castiel doesn't know. He says hello to the mechanic, and the doctor, and the dentist, and the jeweler; you name it, he knows them. Charlie and Missouri both say Castiel has the gift of memory - if he sees a face, he'll usually remember it perfectly.

Today, the entire town seems to be visiting the little café, and Castiel and Charlie are run ragged trying to keep up with everyone. It's nice seeing everyone, but after a few hours of the constant rush Castiel needs a minute of rest.

Castiel's lunch break can't come soon enough. He's already tired and it's only been half a day. At noon he goes to collapse in the chair in the kitchen, rolling up his pant legs to cool down. The air conditioning isn't working as well as they'd hoped, and the breeze is virtually gone. Castiel lets his head loll on the back of the chair and closes his eyes. Something about the heat drains him.

He's startled awake by the feel of a plate falling into his lap, jerking upright and grabbing at the nearest weapon he can find, which turns out to be a stirring spoon.

Gabriel just rolls his eyes at him and deadpans, "No, not the spoon, that'll do some serious dam- Ow!"

Castiel had just whacked him on the arm with the spoon, making sure to hit him hard. Gabriel rubs at the spot with a grimace, casting an annoyed look at him. He shrugs innocently in response and begins eating, trying to hurry through lunch.

Charlie looked frazzled enough before he left; he could cut his lunch break short and get back out to help her. She'd done it enough times for him.

Gabriel turns back to the stove, muttering about paranoid little brothers and their thrice-damned ability to make anything into a lethal weapon. Castiel just smirks, putting the empty plate in the sink, before putting his apron back on and heading into the fray.

"We need more apple," he calls before leaving, sliding a pan down the counter to where Gabriel sits. Gabriel nods in his direction, quickly filling the pie so he can get it in the oven.

Outside, the crowd has died down somewhat, although Charlie still looks stressed out. Her normally straight hair has frizzed, giving her a slightly crazed look.

Castiel taps her on the back of the shoulder gently. "I can take it from here." Charlie gives him a desperately grateful look before heading back to the kitchens for her own lunch break. Castiel hurries  and rings up the few remaining customers, leaning against the counter the moment he's done.

There are still some customers milling about the café; Castiel is just glad that he didn't have to help any of them out for a bit. The door was mercifully quiet, and Castiel took a moment to rest his head on the counter. He cracked his back, sighing in relief. Charlie comes back out soon enough, sly look on her face.

"Gabriel and I were chatting..." Charlie says delicately, picking at the remains of her sandwich. Castiel rolls his eyes, tempted to go into the back and hit Gabriel. Again.

"That's bad for all of us," Castiel says, and Charlie makes an offended sound.

"We're both geniuses," Charlie protests.

"That's debatable."

"Whatever." Charlie waves her hand around dismissively, leaning forward on her stool. "What about that girl who lives across the hall from you? Gabriel couldn't remember her name."

"Daphne?"

Charlie snaps her fingers. "Yes! Why don't you ask her on a date?"

"I told you Charlie, I'm not interested."

Charlie pouts. "C'mon, Cas. What about..." her eyes cast about the room, lighting up. "How 'bout Ellen's daughter? Jo?"

Castiel shakes his head, grinning  as he rings up another customer. He turns back to Charlie, frowning. "Charlie, I'm really not interested. And that goes for you too," he continues, raising his voice for Gabriel's benefit.

He hears a muffled protest from the kitchen and sighs. The bell rings, and Castiel automatically turns toward it. Charlie mutters a, "Wow," from next to him, backing up a little until Castiel is alone at the register.

A stranger pushes through the door, clothed in a dark green military jacket over a black tee. He walks up to the register, biting his lip as he looks at the menu. Castiel taps a pen on the counter, steadfastly not looking at the man's jaw line or his broad shoulders.

"Can I help you?" he asks, struggling to keep his voice even. Charlie giggles behind him, and Castiel is tempted to reach back and punch her in the arm. He'd probably get punched back, so it really isn't worth it.

"Uh," the stranger starts, scratching  the back of his neck. "I'll have a slice of your apple pie, please. And a tall coffee, black.”

"Got it," Castiel says, punching in the total. "Actually, sir, we just ran out of the apple -"

"Just my luck," the stranger grumbles, cutting across Castiel. Castiel cocks his head, confused.

"We've got one in the oven right now, if you don't mind waiting a few extra minutes? Shouldn't be more than ten."

The stranger blushed, before sheepishly apologizing. "Sorry, it's been one of those days."

"Understandable." Castiel sticks the paper on the window to the kitchen, rapping on the wood to alert Gabriel to the order. At some point Charlie had ducked back inside, and he sees her and Gabriel making exaggerated hand motions in Castiel's general direction.

 

"I can get you a slice of the blueberry instead, if you'd like," he calls over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the two in the kitchen. He doesn't trust them, especially not when they're alone in the kitchen. Usually that results in Castiel ending up on a blind date sitting across from a woman he would never be interested in. Them thinking? Doesn’t turn out well for anyone, ever.

"No thanks. I can wait," the man says, moving over and leaning against the counter. Castiel glares through the window at Gabriel and Charlie, who stop talking when they notice him. He shakes his head minutely and they move out of sight, heads bowed close together.

He turns back to the stranger, who's standing there awkwardly. Castiel dips his head a bit, glancing over at the stranger’s coat, where there's a military insignia and number on the side arm. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr...."

"Winchester. But, uh, call me Dean," he says, stretching out a hand toward Castiel. He has an easy grin, although the lines around his eyes still remain tight. Castiel reaches out and grips his hand, shaking it once.

"Castiel Novak."

Dean whistles, making a sympathetic face. "Ouch. Sorry about that."

"About what?"

"Unusual name."

"I don't mind it. My parents are religious, and my other two brothers were named this way as well."

"Wow. I'm even more sorry."

Castiel shrugs, smiling a little at Dean. "It isn't too bad. I've gotten used to it."

 

He nods toward Dean's jacket, pulling up a small screen on the computer. "We give veteran's discounts, you know."

Dean chuckles, glancing down at his jacket. "Actually, the jacket is my dad's. Gave it to me before he got transferred to a new division. He should be back in a week or so."

"Must be hard," Castiel comments. Dean has a strange twist to his mouth, like he's refraining from saying anything. Castiel doesn't push.

“I’m in the service too, actually. Followed in my dad's footsteps, skipped off college to become military." Dean plays with a pen lying on the counter, twirling it between his finger. His eyes are darker, now, and Castiel isn't completely sure what caused the change. They stand there awkwardly, Dean tapping his fingers against the counter in a staccato rhythm.

"How long?"

"Sorry?" Dean asks, looking at Castiel, confused.

“How long were you in the army?” Castiel clarifies, absently picking at the loose thread of his jeans. The smell of the pie is beginning to waft through the door, and he can tell that it's almost done.

“Year and a half. Then I got shipped back.” Dean laughs uncomfortably, a hand brushing almost unconsciously along his side. "Was caught near a bomb blast somewhere near Kabul, got most of my right side studded with shrapnel and other shit. Touch and go for a while. It wasn't pretty - thought I was gonna die more than once."

Castiel's eyes widen, and his mouth half-opens. Dean shakes his head rapidly, backtracking.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to tell you all that." Dean's itching the back of his neck, smiling ruefully over the counter at Castiel. He smiles back, sympathetic.

"I shouldn't have pried. None of my business, anyway."

Dean opens his mouth, about to respond, and Gabriel chooses that moment to burst through the doors of the kitchen. The pie is precariously balanced atop an arm along with a cup of coffee. He sets them down on the counter near Castiel with a wink, before heading off toward Table 2.

"Here you are," Castiel says, handing the bag and drink over to Dean. "Sorry to keep you waiting.”

"No, it was fine." Dean grins at Castiel, giving him a little nod. "It was nice to meet you, Castiel."

"You as well, Dean." Dean turns and heads out the door to a black car, juggling his bag and cup as he tries not to spill. Castiel watches him leave, wishing he had chosen to eat inside. Not that Castiel would have still been able to talk to him, of course; but at least he would have been able to observe him for a little longer.

"So, what's his name?" Castiel jumps, glaring at Charlie. She had somehow snuck out of the kitchen and perched beside him on her stool. Castiel rolled his eyes, refusing to answer. "C'mon, Cas," she wheedled, tugging on his arm.

Castiel turns toward her with a glare. "It is not of import.”

"So formal," Charlie teases, poking Castiel on the arm. "C'mon, just tell me. I'm curious."

"Naturally," Castiel deadpans, turning toward the register. He hears Charlie sigh in frustration before he's forcefully spun around. The sunlight is glaring, blinding him, and he shades his eyes with a hand. Charlie is frowning at him, but he can still detect a gleam in her eyes.

He decides to play along with the dramatics, rolling his eyes. "His name is Dean."

Charlie grins, patting Castiel on the shoulder. "See, not so hard." She glances over at the door where Dean is just getting into his car. "He's cute. If you go for that type of thing, I suppose."

Castiel groans and shakes his head, turning wordlessly back to walk into the kitchen. Charlie doesn't chase after him, but he hears her call, "He has a nice car, too!" after him, and he chuckles. Of course Charlie would appreciate the car; it looks like something out of her favorite Americana movies.

Castiel hangs up his apron and picks up a rag instead, intending to clean off the countertops from Gabriel's baking. He has taken only a few steps in that direction before he feels a tug on his shirt and is forcibly spun around.

"Why must you and Charlie manhandle me?" he accuses, pointing a finger at Gabriel. Gabriel backs up, holding both hands up in the air defensively. Castiel frowns, before grabbing the rag from where he dropped it. He turns to leave, but Gabriel's hand on his arm stops him.

"Who was that?" Gabriel asks, smirking. Honestly, if Charlie wasn't a lesbian and Gabriel wasn't, well, Gabriel, they would probably be the perfect couple. Castiel doesn't really appreciate this fact.

"Go talk about it with Charlie," he grouses, pushing Gabriel's arm away. "You're both just gossips."

"Does Cassie have a new boyfriend?" Gabriel teases, making a face at Castiel. He starts to sing, "Green-eyes and Cassie, sitting in a tree," and Castiel reaches a hand out and holds it over his mouth. Castiel narrows his eyes at Gabriel until Gabriel nods slightly; an unspoken promise.

Sure enough, when Castiel removes his hand, Gabriel doesn't sing, just smiles annoyingly at Castiel. Castiel rolls his eyes before pointing at Gabriel. "You are insufferable."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Castiel turns around to finally begin cleaning, and Gabriel returns to the stove. "Really, Cas, it's not something to be ashamed of."

"Gabriel," Castiel almost chokes out, whipping around to glare at his brother.

"I'm not kidding," Gabriel continues, unfazed. "Completely normal. I wouldn't judge, you know that."

Castiel sinks down into the nearest chair, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes. "Why was I cursed with you of all people? Why?"

"Because no one else would ever take me."

"Right. That's it." Gabriel shrugs and turns away, opening the oven to pull out a plateful of scones. He mutters under his breath when leaving, and Castiel only feels a flicker of worry when he sees Gabriel talking to Charlie. The counters are still dirty, and Castiel realizes that he hasn't actually gotten around to cleaning them yet.

He goes to work, scrubbing roughly at the bits of blackened pastry and bread stuck to the pan, waiting for the day to end.

\--

Castiel locks the door, slipping the key into the inside pocket of his jacket. He makes sure all the lights are off before turning from the bakery. Gabriel is standing against his car, arms crossed, and staring at Castiel.

"Let's go, Columbo, I need some A/C," Gabriel calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. Charlie has just pulled away from the curb, honking twice as she passes Castiel and Gabriel. Castiel lifts up a hand in goodbye before ducking under branches to get to the car. One tree branch refuses to move, ending up hitting Castiel in the face. He grunts and rubs at a tender spot on his cheekbone, already dreading the bruise that will be there tomorrow. Gabriel calls for Castiel to hurry again and Castiel runs over, breathing heavily against the side of the car. Gabriel scoffs and looks disinterested, pulling open the driver's door and sliding in.

Castiel does the same, being sure to buckle up before Gabriel pulls away from the curb.

They drive in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the radio. Gabriel starts singing along quietly to 'Paint it Black', but Castiel rolls his eyes and refuses to join. Gabriel elbows him while holding a note, eyebrows waggling. Castiel shakes his head stiffly, looking back out the window. The verse builds. and Castiel feels Gabriel's eyes boring into his back.

With an exaggerated sigh for Gabriel's benefit, Castiel joins in, smiling over at Gabriel. They sing along for the rest of the song, adding stupid embellishments everywhere and Castiel even goes for the guitar solo while Gabriel rocks out on the drums. Once the song ends they're grinning at each other and breathing hard.

"Gabriel, I have a question," Castiel starts, trying to catch Gabriel while he's in a good mood. Otherwise he might never agree. Gabriel wasn’t known for accepting change well, and he hadn’t even considered hiring anyone else since they’d hired Charlie.

"Shoot," Gabriel relaxes against the seat, one hand lazily gripping the wheel.

"Charlie and I were talking, and we believe it would be beneficial to hire another cashier. It's just too much for us both to handle, especially over the lunch break." Castiel waits for Gabriel's answer with baited breath as Gabriel tilts his head. His eyes narrow and Castiel can see him biting his cheek.

"Sure."

Castiel's mouth drops open. "Really?" he says, surprised. Gabriel was usually very closed-off, and it had been a trial to even get Charlie to work for them.

Gabriel shrugs, nodding. "Shouldn't put too much of a dent in our savings. Got anyone in mind?"

Castiel shakes his head slowly. "Not at the moment."

"Maybe that guy you were chatting with today needs one," Gabriel says, eyes glancing over at Castiel. There's a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, and Castiel rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure he already has one," he says frostily, crossing his arms. Gabriel chuckles in response, reaching over to ruffle Castiel's hair.

"Wouldn't hurt to ask, now would it?"

"Stop, Gabriel. You're driving."

"Fine, fine," Gabriel replies, easily sliding back over and keeping his eyes on the road. Castiel huffs and turns toward the window, watching as the buildings pass by until they reach their apartment.

"Out you go," Gabriel says, shoving gently at Castiel's tense shoulder. "No manly-man pain in my car. It's been through enough without your epic pout inflicting damage."

He is out of the car and halfway up the lot by the time Castiel reaches out to swat him, giggling madly with the keys jangling at his sides. He swears under his breath before stiffly getting out of the car. "Hilarious," he calls after Gabriel, shoving his hands in his pockets and following Gabriel to their apartment building. He smirks at Gabriel's back once they've gotten out of the car, reaching over to shove him into a small pothole. He stumbles and Castiel laughs, smiling at his brother. Even Gabriel lets out a chuckle at his own expense.

They ride up the elevator while laughing, comfortable enough that they get dinner together without speaking much. It's only halfway through their dinner of mac n' cheese before Gabriel speaks up.

"Indy marathon tonight?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in Castiel's direction. Castiel shrugs in response.

"We open early tomorrow. It's Monday," he reminds Gabriel, who groans and throws his head back on the couch. Castiel grins slightly, grabbing his plate and bringing it to the dishwasher.

Gabriel follows close behind, whining about something to do with "being your own boss". Castiel just tunes him out, methodically washing their dishes and handing them to Gabriel to dry off.

After cleaning everything, they head to the living roomThey're sitting on the couch together, Castiel with a book and Gabriel watching TV, when Gabriel jerks.

"Do you actually know anyone that needs a job?" His voice is almost deceptively innocent and curious, as he watches Castiel closely.

"I wasn't lying earlier," Castiel says, automatically wary whenever Gabriel got that tone in his voice. "I don't know anyone looking for a job."

Gabriel is quiet for a while before putting his plate down on the coffee table next to the armchair he was reclining in. He leans forward and looks at Castiel, no hint of teasing in his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, okay kid? Really, you should ask - what was his name again? - if he needs work. He looks like a hard worker."

"His name is Dean, Dean Winchester. I'll ask, but I'm not sure if he will come back." Castiel feels a strange twinge in his chest at not being able to see Dean again; which, since it's been less than twenty-four hours since they first even met, doesn't make much sense. Castiel shoves the feeling to the back of his mind and locks it away with the other inconvenient feelings, resolving to never examine it up close. It takes a few beats for him to realize that Gabriel is still speaking, and he blinks quickly, focusing on Gabriel.

"- or if he doesn't need one, maybe he'll know a guy. I agree - you guys need some help out there now that we're getting more popular." Gabriel snaps in front of Castiel's face and he flinches, looking apologetically up at Gabriel. "You still there, Spock?"

"Actually, Gabriel, I think I'm going to turn in." Castiel fakes a large yawn, stretching his arms back for good measure. "It's been a long day, and we have to get up early for inventory tomorrow."

Gabriel groans and shoos Castiel away. "Trying not to think about it, thanks. I hate doing inventory."

"You mean you hate sitting around watching me do inventory because you're too lazy to actually do work."

Gabriel waves a careless hand in the air. "Hey I still need to be awake. That’s enough."

Castiel rises fluidly from the couch and bids goodnight to Gabriel, hurrying down the hallway to his room and quickly changing into the shirt and boxers that have become his nighttime attire. He tumbles back onto the bed, making a mental note to himself to begin putting 'help wanted' posters up around the town. Maybe he'll get lucky and Dean will need a job.

Castiel turns around, shutting off his light, and responding to Gabriel's shouted, "Good night!" with a soft hum. He rolls over and fits a hand under his pillow, tucking into himself under the covers.

He dreams of green-eyes and military jackets swimming in a lake, soft smiles and apple pie on a dock near a pond that's hidden by the trees.

It's the calmest sleep he's had in a long time.

 

\--

"Uncle Cas, this isn't good yet," Robert complains, dropping the stick he was distractedly playing with to glare at Castiel. Castiel sighs fondly, leaning over to rustle his hair.  

"The story hasn't even started yet. You'll see."

Mary sighs and leans into Castiel's arm, smiling dreamily. "I think it's cute. Are you gonna fall in love and get married?"

"Just wait."

\--

“Cas! Get a move on, we're gonna be late!" Castiel jerks awake, alarm beeping incessantly next to him. Gabriel's irritated calls finally process in his mind as he reads the time, swearing and throwing the covers off of him. He's in the shower in no time, having stripped off his clothes on the way to the bathroom. There's next to no time for him to wash his hair, so he sticks with a quick body shower.

Gabriel honks his horn impatiently, and Castiel leans out of the window, hair still dripping. "Be there in five minutes!"

He's not sure if Gabriel heard him, but he continues rushing all the same. He makes it out the door in three minutes, half of a bagel sticking out of his mouth and carrying his shoes with one hand.

Gabriel impatiently taps the wheel and Castiel slides in next to him, apologizing profusely around the bagel in his mouth. Gabriel speeds away, and Castiel holds onto the side handle, gripping his bagel tighter.

"Why were you late? I heard your alarm go off," Gabriel asks, glancing sidelong at Castiel. A truck honks at them and Gabriel flips the driver off, continuing to speed toward the bakery.

Castiel finishes tying his shoes and relaxes against the seat. He shrugs, meeting Gabriel's gaze. "The alarm didn't wake me. I only woke up when you yelled."

Gabriel smirks. "Were you having a happy dream, kid?" He laughs at Castiel's disgusted expression, reaching over to ruffle Castiel's hair. Castiel swats his hand away, pouting.

"No big. We all get them." Castiel can hear Gabriel's smile in his tone, and crosses his arms and looks sullenly out the window. "No need to get all huffy, jeez."

They pull into the parking lot near the café, barely before the bakery is set to open. Gabriel hurries inside to begin cooking, but Castiel hangs back. There's a slight breeze ruffling his hair, and Castiel turns his face into the wind. He already regrets his extreme reaction, but he isn't going to tell Gabriel that. It would just give his brother another thing to hold over his head.

He flips the sign to "Open" as he passes the window, not seeing anyone nearby on the street. Today is Charlie's day off, and Castiel will have to man the registers by himself.

"Hey, I made an employment poster. Think it'll work?" Gabriel flourishes a piece of paper at Castiel, grinning widely. "NOW HIRING" is written on the paper in large block letters, over what looks like the bakery. Castiel squints.

"Is that supposed to be a door?"

"Hey, it's only a rough draft," Gabriel snaps, grabbing the paper back. He mutters under his breath, but Castiel can't make out his words. Gabriel crumples up the paper and tosses it in the trash, crossing his arms at Castiel.

"Why don't you make a better one, Van Gogh?" Gabriel says, reaching over to turn the oven up.

"I don't understand what a one-eared deceased intellectual has to do with us hiring a new employee," Castiel mumbles, beginning to draw on a sheet of paper.

He hears Gabriel groan and then a thump; most likely Gabriel hitting his head on the counter. Castiel finishes drawing, holding it up for Gabriel to see. It's a simple sign, the "HELP WANTED" fitting nicely over the symbol of the bakery at the bottom. Gabriel takes one look at it and pouts.

"Fine. We'll use yours." He stirs the cake batter a little harder than usual, dramatic as always. Castiel grabs a roll of tape and heads over to the window, hanging the sign in an easy place to see. He can see some of their regular customers heading down the street, and goes back around the counter. His apron is laying under the register, and he quickly ties it on.

The morning passes in a blur, customers coming in and leaving just as quick, the early work rush leaving Castiel frazzled. No one had asked about the job opening yet, although admittedly, it was still early.

Gabriel is calling through the doorway and Castiel turns to listen. It's something about the batter burning and needing a mop stat, but Castiel tries to ignore him. Gabriel's a big boy, he can handle himself in the kitchen.

By the clanging and crashing of the pots, Castiel realizes that actually, no. He can't. With an exasperated sigh he heads into the kitchen, trying to help Gabriel figure out how to clean it up. He suspects that Gabriel made such a production of it because he wanted Castiel to do all the work, but he doesn't question him.

He's so focused on Gabriel's problem that he doesn't hear the bell ring as the door opens. Castiel calls back into the doorway, something along the lines of, "you don't need me to hold your hand, Gabriel, pick up your mess," and hurries out to help the customer.

Standing in front of the register is Dean, grin on his face and hands shoved deep into his pockets. Castiel smiles back, feeling an invisible weight lift off of his chest. Dean had been coming in every couple of days for the past two weeks, and every time he came in Castiel felt better. He realized that he missed Dean on the days when he doesn’t come in, but he can’t expect him to be there every day. Any time he comes in is enough for Castiel.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas." Dean leans against the counter, biting his lip as he looks up at the menu above Castiel's head. Castiel cocks his head, confused about the nickname.

"Cas?" he questions, drawing Dean's attention back to himself.

"Yeah, I figured you got saddled with that name, least I could do was make it a bit more normal." Dean pauses, looking slightly anxious. "That okay?"

"It just took me by surprise, that's all. Usually only people I'm very close to call me that." Castiel folds his arm to lean on the register. "I don't mind it."

"Great. Good." Dean looks back up at the menu for a moment before his eyes meet Castiel's again. "So what do you recommend off the menu?"

Castiel considers for a while; he's tasted next to everything, except for the blueberry crisp. Dean liked the pie last time he came, he'd most likely enjoy something sweet.

Some part of his mind (he assumes it's the part that listens to Gabriel) tells him to say "well, I'm not on the menu, but give me a try." He quickly shuts that voice down, feeling himself blush. Titling his head to consider the menu, he decides on something Dean would enjoy.

"I would say that the peach torte is delicious," Castiel answers, smiling over at Dean. "It's very popular, as well. Gabriel makes the best torte on this side of town."

Dean's returned grin is infectious, and Castiel begins to understand how people can feel drawn to a person. "I'll have that then. Thanks, Cas."

"I'll put it in." Castiel tapes the order to the kitchen door, and as Gabriel comes to grab it he notices Dean standing there. He smirks and glances over at Castiel, making obscene hand motions and waggling his eyebrows in Dean's direction.

Castiel glares at him. Hard. Gabriel shrugs and grabs the paper, slipping away with a muttered, "Hardass."

Dean is still leaning on the counter, eyebrow raised at Castiel and the kitchen door - an unspoken question.

"My brother. Ignore him, he feeds off of attention. He eats enough as it is," Castiel explains, returning to the register. "It'll be about five minutes."

"Awesome."

There are no customers behind them, so Dean remains leaning on the counter. Castiel isn't sure what to say, not without sounding awkward and forced.

"Hey, about that sign in the window..." Dean trails off, standing up straight to shove his hand in his pocket. His head jerks toward it, looking at Castiel.

"Do you need a job?" Castiel asks, trying not to sound too eager. Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

"Nah, I work down at Singer's back in Lawrence. My little brother does, though. I promise he's responsible and pretty damn smart."

Castiel feels himself deflate a little but tries not to let it show. "Sure," he answers, reaching under the desk to grab an application that he and Gabriel had hastily printed up during a lull in the flow of customers, handing it over to Dean.

"Thanks," Dean says, reaching for the paper. His eyes skim it quickly, before folding it and sticking it in his back pocket. He glances around the cafe, gaze finally settling on Castiel. “So, how long have you been working here?”

“My brother opened the store about three years ago, but I only came to work here a year and a half ago. We hired Charlie not too long after that, and that’s how it’s been ever since,” Castiel answers, absentmindedly swiping the counter down with a rag. He tosses the rag over his shoulder, glancing back to make sure it lands in the correct box. Dean is standing there with a grin on his face when he turns back; Castiel cocks his head, confused.

“What?” he asks, brow wrinkling.

“Nothing.” Dean shakes his head, grin not fading. “You, I guess. You’re just so precise and calculated, I guess - I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Cas. And before you ask, 'cause I may have only met you a couple days ago but I can already see the gears turning: yes, that’s a compliment.”

“Thank you, then.” Castiel smiles back, still a bit confused by Dean’s words. He distracts himself by going into the back, shooting an apologetic look at Dean. Gabriel is folding up a small box that Castiel assumes holds Dean’s torte. He waggles his eyebrows, glancing from Castiel to the doorway. Castiel shoots him a dark glare, grabbing the box and heading back out. He knows Gabriel too well to miss that look, and he really isn’t up to dealing with his brother’s innuendo today.

“Not a word,” he warns, backing out of the room and pushing the door open with his elbow. Gabriel sulks, hopping up onto the counter to pout. He rolls his eyes and turns, handing the box over to Dean. Dean sets it down on the counter, pulling out his wallet to pay for it. After the exchange, he leaves again, not staying inside to eat. Castiel refuses to watch him leave today; he can feel Gabriel’s eyes locked on his back from the kitchen, and doesn’t want to give him any more reason to tease him.

\--

It goes like this for a couple weeks; Dean comes in every couple of days around lunchtime, ordering a slice of pie (the flavor almost always varies, although Castiel notices he gets apple more often than any of the other flavors) and chatting with Castiel while he waits for the pie. Gabriel always smiles at him knowingly when Dean comes in, and will usually pull Charlie into the kitchen if she isn’t busy.

One day, as they’re talking about movies, Charlie comes into the point the conversation when Star Wars is brought up. Her and Dean talk about for a while, and she ends up almost punching Dean when he says that Chewbacca isn't an important character. Castiel doesn't know who or what a Chewbacca is, and he says as much.

Charlie looks at him with disapproval while Dean looks at him with abject horror. "Wait, you've never seen Star Wars? You're joking, right?" Castiel nods and Dean's face falls, before lighting up with a smile once more.

He trades secret looks with her, nodding over toward Castiel. Castiel looks between them both, suspicion curling at the corners of his mind. They're both looking at him with eerily identical grins, and years of living with Gabriel cause him to instinctively lean back, away from whatever is coming next.

"We're making you watch them all. Sometime." Charlie leans over and high-fives Dean, excitedly chattering on about different characters and plots in the movies and ranting about how Disney needs to "cut it's crap" and let it end. Castiel just watches the two of them interact, Dean becoming more relaxed in her presence than he had been any of the other times. If she wasn't completely and irrevocably lesbian, he might be worried about the two of them ending up together. Dean leaves with a grin on his face, exchanging goodbyes with Charlie and Castiel.

Charlie doesn't stop mocking Castiel for the rest of the day.

\--

About a week after that conversation (it’s another Monday, Castiel remembers because Charlie had had the day off), whenever Dean comes in he’ll just yell his order back to Gabriel. He and Gabriel have a strange relationship that pretty much amounts to a mutual respect/hate thing. Castiel doesn't understand it, nor does he want to. All he knows is that Dean loves Gabriel's cooking and Gabriel loves Dean's sarcasm, but neither of them are able nor willing to admit it. He just enjoys Dean's company, and believes that Dean enjoys his as well.

The front door bursts open while Dean’s waiting for his pie and Charlie runs in, out of breath and waving around a flyer. She skids to a stop in front of the counter and hops over it, pressing a quick kiss to Castiel's cheek on the way. Dean says a quick hello and she turns, grabbing his arm and pulling him around the counter.

"You guys gotta see this," she pants, knocking on the door to the kitchen loudly. She yells Gabriel's name and he comes dashing out, still loosely clutching his spatula. His eyes meet hers and the spatula moves up, pointing threateningly at Charlie.

"This is your day off, I ain't paying you for this. Out." Charlie just rolls her eyes and slaps away the spatula. He looks offended before warily putting it on the counter. Castiel watches the exchange with folded arms, used to this type of behavior. Dean looks more unsettled, eyes skittering between the two and looking as though he's about to back away slowly.

"Would you shut up and listen?" Charlie whines, showing Gabriel the flyer. His eyes widen and he grabs for the paper, but Charlie holds it out of his reach. It flutters in the wind and Castiel takes advantage of her distraction, taking the flyer from her. She turns around and reaches for it, scowling, but Castiel is already on the other side of the counter and Dean is blocking Charlie's way.

"What is it, Cas?" Dean asks, looking curiously at the flyer. Castiel shrugs, turning the paper over to examine it more carefully. It seems to be an advertisement for a show playing at the theater down the road, something he guesses is to do with astronomy.

"I'm... not sure actually. It looks like a documentary about space." He hands the flyer to Dean, who has a similar reaction to Gabriel. Charlie is leaning against the counter with a smirk on her face, arms folded self-satisfyingly. She nods a head toward Castiel and grins, kicking Dean gently in his boot.

"Explain it to Mr. Dreamy over there, dude. He doesn't get it," she explains, smiling. Dean looks between her and Castiel, gaze straying to the flyer he holds.

"Wait, Cas... you think this is a documentary?" he says, looking confused and a little shocked. Castiel tilts his head, unsure of where the confusion lies. Dean's still holding the flyer loosely, and Gabriel takes the chance to grab it from him. He shakes his head in wonder, pulling the pen from his apron and circling something heavily. He gives Charlie back the flyer, and she tacks it up on the cork board before turning back to Dean and Castiel.

"Cas, this isn't a documentary about space. It's Star Trek. It's legendary. Tell me you've heard of it." Castiel shakes his head and Dean groans, head falling into his hands melodramatically. "Star Wars... Star Wars I could forgive, but this too?"

Gabriel is laughing over in the corner with Charlie, and Castiel shoots them both a death glare. They don't stop, but quiet down and begin whispering furiously to each other. She grabs Gabriel and pulls him into the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind him. Dean is staring at him with something close to mortification.

"Man..." Dean begins, running a hand along his slightly stubbled chin. "We gotta get you up to date." Castiel isn't sure what to say, so he nods and cranes his neck to see if the other two were coming back out. Someone clears their throat behind him and Castiel jumps, spinning around and feeling himself begin to topple. He grabs out for the counter, nails scrabbling uselessly along the slippery tile.

Suddenly there are two steadying hands on his hips, holding him upright. He turns around and meets Dean's eyes, less than half a foot away. His eyes look even greener from this close, and Castiel feels as though he could count every freckle spattering over Dean's cheeks. They don't move for what feels like forever, and his eyes flick down to Dean's lips and back up, so quickly that he doesn't think it was noticed. Dean's face is flushed, and he backs away slowly, pulling his hands away from Castiel's waist. His fingers drag along the curve of his hips, forcing Castiel to hold back a shiver.

"Ah. Thanks," Castiel stammers, heart beating fast. Dean's hands are shoved deep in his pockets and he isn't making eye contact with him. There's a pregnant pause before he turns, brightly asking the customer what he can help them with. Someone moves behind him and he sees Dean slip back to the other side of the counter.

Maybe he wasn't as subtle as he thought.

He's able to help the customer out, grabbing the bagel from under the counter and sticking it rather haphazardly in a bag. Dean still won't meet his eyes by the time he thanks the customer and sends them on their way. Neither of them are making a sound, and Castiel's eyes are glued to a spot of hardened chocolate stuck on the counter.

Thankfully Gabriel and Charlie choose that moment to burst out of the back room, twin glints in their eyes. They pull Dean around to face them and huddle in close with Castiel. He still won't look at Dean, afraid of what he'll see on his face.

"Alright, boys, this is what we're gonna do," Charlie begins in a stage whisper, arms wrapped around Gabriel and Castiel's necks. Dean is still next to him, and is looking only at her. She continues speaking, grinning widely at each of them in turn. "We're going to this movie. I haven't seen it yet - and I swear to God, Gabriel, if you ruin it for me I will cut off your balls in your sleep," she says, directing an icy glare toward Gabriel. He closes his mouth, sulking. "So what's gonna happen is Gabe's gonna drive me and then Dean can drive Cas. Everyone's happy."

"Wouldn't it be easier for Gabriel to take me? Seeing as, you know, we live together and all that?" Castiel points out, raising a suspicious eyebrow at her. Charlie glances over at Gabriel, who shrugs. He looks at Castiel, expression blank.

"I'll actually be five minutes from Charlie's house on Saturday. I'm meeting someone to see if we can switch pastry companies, it'd just be easier for me to grab her. And you said Dean doesn't live too far away. It shouldn't be a problem," Gabriel says, looking incredibly bored and uninterested. Castiel knows him better than that; he's planning something. And Castiel wants to find out why.

"So it's settled, then? Saturday at 9?" The three of them nod, Dean pursing his lips as though he's reconsidering. Castiel feels his heart sink slightly, but Dean doesn't speak up. Charlie finally let's go of his neck and he straightens up, trying to catch Dean's gaze. Turns out, he needn't have worried. Dean is looking at him fondly, and reaches a hand out to lightly punch him in the arm.

"Here you go, Cas. Consider this your first lesson in the world of great cinema," he says, grinning widely. Gabriel is nodding solemnly behind him, looking almost serious. But Castiel can see the brotherly teasing in his gaze, and leans around Dean to flick him in the ear. He ducks back near Dean to hide from the retaliation, and uses him as a barrier. Gabriel gives up and folds his arms, eyes promising revenge on him later that night.

"Oh, wait -" Dean digs around in his pockets for a moment before pulling out a small phone. He tosses it to Castiel, screen open to a contact page. "Put your number in, then we can work out all the details."

Gabriel chuckles softly in the background, unfolding his arms to clap at him. "Smooth, Winchester... gotta say I'm impressed." Deans scowls over at him, cheeks turning slightly red. Castiel ignores them, methodically typing in his phone number and sending himself a text. He hands the phone back, grabbing Dean's food from the counter and hanging it to him. Gabriel returns to the kitchen, tugging Charlie in after him. Dean's cheeks are their normal color and Castiel wonders if he imagined the blush after all. Surely Dean wouldn't be blushing over him. It just... wouldn't make sense.

"So, I'll see you Saturday then?" Castiel asks, even while he hopes to see Dean sooner than that. Dean nods, grinning over at him. He hands over a credit card and Castiel runs it through the machine, giving Dean his receipt.

"Guess so. I'll text you later, to tell you what time I'll be over to pick you up." Castiel still doesn't understand why Gabriel can't just drive him, but can't find it in him to complain. "I'll send Sammy by tomorrow, can you fit him in for an interview?"

Castiel nods. "I'll see what I can do." He shouldn't feel butterflies in his stomach from Dean's answering grin. With a final wave Dean is off, pushing open the door and making his way to a black vintage car. Castiel watches him go, lost in his own thoughts.

He doesn't let himself hope. It's just a movie, nothing special; and besides, Charlie and Gabriel are coming too. It's not a significant outing. Dean probably just wanted to see the movie, and didn't complain when told he had to pick up Castiel because he didn't want to piss off Gabriel. Or something.

\--

The next day starts bright and early at the bakery, and Castiel can feel himself drooping while he stands behind the register. His eyes close and he jerks awake; the cycle continues, and eventually he tells Gabriel that he's running to the gas station down the road to grab an energy drink. They're horrible, he knows, but it's either that or fall asleep at the register. Gabriel yells back that he'll lecture him later, and Castiel leaves quickly. It's a quick stop at the gas station, and as he ducks back into the store he hears what he assumes to be Charlie bickering with Gabriel.

"Wait, Gabe, you're actually interviewing someone?" Charlie asks, mouth dropping open. Gabriel shoots her a dirty look before leaning back in the chair, hands behind his head.

"I am capable of changing my mind, Charlie," he says, closing his eyes. Charlie lets out a laugh, eyes gleaming.

"Yeah, but normally you'd never admit to it."

"Careful, sweetheart, I'm still your boss," Gabriel warns, but Castiel sees the teasing in his eyes. And honestly, she's just about the only one that actually can joke around with him. Even Castiel, who's known him his whole life, isn't normally on his same wavelength.

"So, what's his name?" Charlie asks, glancing over at Castiel..

"His name is Sam," he says, pulling together some of the papers they need to conduct the interview. "He's Dean's brother."

Charlie blinks, surprised, before she gets a gleam in her eyes not unlike Gabriel. She leans forward with a smirk, bumping Castiel in his shoulder.

"Getting in good with the brother then, huh?" She winks at him, Gabriel muffling a choked laugh. He frowns at the two of them, crossing his arms in annoyance. They don't look apologetic at all, and he turns away with a huff.

"I believe that Sam will be a good employee, that's it," Castiel mutters, cheeks turning a faint red when they both give him identical disbelieving looks. "Honestly."

"Sure you do." Charlie nods emphatically, giving him an innocent look. Gabriel's face is turning red from holding in his laughter and he just sighs, turning away from the two of them as they both collapse into laughter.

Children. Both of them.

"He'll be coming in soon, Dean said so." Castiel pushes up from the table and out through the door, ignoring the whispers coming from behind him. The moment he leaves the kitchen the front door opens, admitting a shaggy-haired man who's taller than Castiel and a Gabriel both. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, glancing around the shop.

Castiel gives a quick look back over his shoulder to make sure that Gabriel and Charlie have come into the main area of the bakery. He sticks out a hand, shooting the man a warm smile.

"You must be Sam," he says, shaking his hand.

He grins. nodding. "And you must be Castiel. Dean talks about you all the time."

"Oh, does he?" And there's Gabriel, leaning over Castiel with his chin on his shoulder. He smirks at Sam before pressing a sloppy kiss to Castiel's cheek. "Our little Castiel, finding love."

Castiel pushes him away with a scowl, but Gabriel just laughs and winks at Sam. He chuckles, looking apologetically at Castiel. "Sorry. But he really does talk about you a lot."

"And they've only known each other for a month. It's a match made in heaven," Gabriel sighs, clasping his hands and holding them to his cheek. Castiel punches his arm, scowling.

"My apologies, Sam. Gabriel isn't the most tactful person in the room."

"Or the entire state," Charlie chips in, leaning against the counter. She grins up at Sam, holding out her hand. They shake and she winks, kicking lightly at Castiel's ankle. "Don't worry, Sam, your brother is in good hands. Nice, strong, chiseled -" He resists the urge to slap a hand over her mouth, instead aiming his finger into the small of her back. She stops talking with a glare over her shoulder, pinning Castiel with her gaze.

Sam watches the exchange with a raised eyebrow, looking entertained. Gabriel leans over the counter and tugs him down to his level, stage-whispering into his ear. "Don't worry, Charlie's as gay as they come, no need to be worried for big bro." He swats him away with a chuckle and Castiel feels his face heating up.

"Maybe we should proceed onto the interview?" he says tightly, tilting his head toward the kitchen door. Gabriel nods emphatically, pulling Sam around the counter by his sleeve.

"C'mon, Gigantor. We've got some questions to ask." Gabriel motions toward the back, holding the door open for Sam and Castiel. He holds out a hand to Charlie, turning her around. "Not you, Red. We've still got customers."

Charlie looks mutinous, folding her arms and glaring at Gabriel. She shrugs off his hand and frowns, muttering an angry, "Fine!" and returning to the counter.

"Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper," Sam quips, ducking under the door. Gabriel's face lights up, but Castiel frowns.

"I don't understand, why -" he begins to say, cut off by Charlie's voice coming through the door to the kitchen.

"Did he just quote Monty Python to you?" she calls, eyes wide. Her lips quirk up in a manic smile, and her gaze is terrifying when she looks over at Gabriel. She points a quelling finger at him, and he backs up to the sink. "You are hiring him, I don't care if he sucks. Hire him."

He just shakes his head, chuckling lowly. Sam grins, looking much more self-assured and comfortable. Castiel's long given up on trying to understand his brother and Charlie, and he isn't about to start now.

"Alright, Sam, if you'll have a seat." Castiel indicates the small stool set up across the table, sitting down next to Gabriel on the opposite side. Even while seated he still towers over Gabriel, and Castiel has to fight off a chuckle. His brother looks so uncomfortable, even though he's used to Castiel being taller than he is.

"Now, time to get started." Gabriel leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. "Why do you feel like you deserve this job?"

Sam considers for a second, and Castiel takes the small gap to grab a sheet of paper to take notes on. They might as well make it seem professional, although it might just well be the most informal interview he has ever been to. And the one where Gabriel begged him to take this job doesn't count. Sam begins explaining his prior experience to them, looking earnest and confident. Gabriel stops him after a few minutes, holding up a hand. He stops talking, eyes flickering in mild panic.

"I don't need to hear any more," Gabriel says, standing up. He grabs Sam's hand, shaking it vigorously. "Congrats, kiddo, you got the job."

"Wait, really?" Sam says, face lighting up. He looks between the two as though expecting them to yell something to the effect of "April Fools," regardless of it being nowhere near April. Gabriel nods, handing Sam his resume. "I really got the job?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you were the only one who applied."

"Oh."

Castiel chuckles, leaning over the table to shake Sam's hand as well. He opts to give Sam a tour of the bakery as soon as possible. Sam's grin is infectious, and he can't help but return it. "Welcome to Tricksters & Treats, Sam."

"Thanks. Really, I owe you one." Sam sticks his hands in his pockets, glancing interestedly around the kitchen. Gabriel gestures grandly, giving a little bow.

"Welcome to my humble pride and joy," he says, hopping up to sit on top of the table. Castiel leans back, and Gabriel throws his arm around his shoulders. "Me and Cas, here, we make it work. Well, it was my idea first, and then I convinced this joker to come work with me. Been working together ever since."

"Impressive," Sam says, nodding. "So how'd he convince you, Castiel?"

"I remember a lot of begging and pleading and bargaining," Castiel says, laughing off the offended look his brother shoots him.  "And Sam, please, call me Cas." Sam nods, smiling.

"You never like when I call you Cas," Gabriel whines, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. "In fact, I strictly remember you bitching about it constantly."

"Well, if you didn't make up nicknames, I wouldn't mind you calling me that as much," Castiel reasons, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel. He sticks up his hands in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

"You never let me have any fun."

"Are they always like this?" Sam asks, leaning down toward Charlie,  head poking through the partially open door. She nods, looking bored. Sam huffs out a surprised breath. "Surprised they ever get anything done."

"It's a strange dynamic but it works. You'll see." Charlie smiles, glint in her eye as she glances up toward Sam.  "Just wait until you're invited for dinner. Now there's a show."

\--

"Hey, bro, I'm heading out," Gabriel calls, throwing on a light jacket. Castiel glances over to where he's leaning against the doorway. He's spinning his keys on his finger, grinning shamelessly. "Enjoy your date." He dodges the pillow Castiel throws at him, waggling his eyebrows.

"Gabriel, you're going to be at the theater too. This isn't a date."

Gabriel shrugs. "What can I say. I'm an optimist."

"No, you're not." Castiel narrows his eyes up at Gabriel, tilting his head. "Gabriel, what did you do?"

"Nothing, honestly," Gabriel exclaims, throwing his hands to the side. "My god, you always think I'm up to something. What, can't I wish my brother a nice time without you being suspicious?"

"No, actually." Castiel stands up, arms folded. "Aren't you gonna be late?" Gabriel capitulates, strutting out the door with his hands in his pockets. He tosses the keys up in his hand, catching them smoothly and pulling the car door open in one move.

"Hey, Cas," Gabriel calls, tossing him a beer bottle. "Loosen up a bit. Trust your instincts, okay?" Castiel nods, confused, before turning to walk back up to the apartment.

Dean will be coming in an hour or so, which gives Castiel more than enough time to get ready. He and Gabriel had already picked out an outfit for him to wear. Gabriel picked it because he thought Dean would like it, but he feels like it brings out his eyes. Casual black shorts, with a light blue plaid shirt on top that was "enough to peak his interest, but not too slutty." Or so Charlie said.

Castiel had punched him in the arm for that one.

He steps into the shower, getting in and out in record time. A quick glance at the clock shows that he has enough time to eat, and he makes an easy bowl of ramen before double checking his appearance in the mirror in his room. Butterflies are flying around in his stomach as he waits for Dean to arrive, determined to make the last half hour feel like days. It wasn't even a date, and he was this nervous. Granted, it might be because he was going to the movies with a guy so attractive that he broke the entire scale, or just because it was him. He'd never pretended to have the best self-confidence, and last night he'd been overanalyzing every conversation, every touch, every expression up till  this point. Maybe Castiel has read everything wrong, and Dean really doesn't want to pursue a romantic relationship. He sprays on some cologne, scrunching his nose at the strong smell.

The evening could go one of a thousand ways. Castiel isn't good with unknowns - he likes having everything run according to a pre-set plan, one that he himself had made up. Some call it controlling, but he just feels more comfortable when he makes the decisions. But Dean isn't something that he can control. Dean walked in mere weeks ago and he's already falling for the man. If he isn't already completely gone on him, of course. It's been getting harder to be annoyed when Gabriel teases him about it, and Castiel wonders if it's because he wants it to be true.

He lays back on his bed, fingers playing with a loose string on his shirt sleeve. His mind is racing, trying to figure out how he already fell for Dean. Maybe it's the piercing green eyes, or the Cupid's bow lips, or maybe just the entire package; Dean's gorgeous and just plain good. Castiel may have only known him for a little bit, but he can already say that Dean is one of the best people he's had the opportunity to know.

Castiel is so lost in his thoughts that he misses the car beeping, staring, unfocused, up at the pale ceiling.  He only jumps when there's a hard rap at the door, and he hurries down the hallway. The fan is on and he lurches over, hitting it off on the first try. He triple checks his hair in the hallway mirror on the way there, trying in vain to make a few loose strands stay down.

The knocking comes again and Castiel peers through the peephole, seeing that it's Dean standing outside his door. He takes a moment to compose himself, trying not to display anything he'd just been thinking about. With a smile plastered on his face he pulls open the door, dodging Dean's hand as he goes to knock again. Dean splutters out a sorry with his cheeks reddening, looking absolutely mortified.

"God, Cas, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean -"

Castiel cuts him off with a shake of the head. "It's fine, Dean, I know you weren't trying to punch me. At least, I hope you weren't." He grins wider when Dean chuckles, scratching the back of his neck while he stands outside of Castiel's door. "Would you like to come in for a drink before we go?"

Dean shakes his head, fingers tapping restlessly against the side of his leg. "I would love to, really, but we'll be late to the movie if we wait too much longer." Castiel nods and locks the door, shoving his wallet into his pants pocket. They walk down the hallway, Castiel shooting Dean an apologetic look as they pass the room of the newlyweds. It obviously wasn't a happy marriage, as it sounded like someone was getting beat up in that room every night. At least, that's what Castiel thought, from the grunts and shouts.

He says as much to Dean as they pass the room, leaning over to mutter it under his breath. Dean abruptly stops walking, cheeks pinking as he stares at Castiel. Castiel looks around and behind him, unsure of what Dean finds so fascinating.

"What?"  he asks, suddenly self-conscious. Dean laughs out loud, eyes gleaming with genuine amusement. He laughs with his whole body, leaning backward and nearly snorting with laughter.

"Cas - you... you thought they were, what, fighting?" he says, hands holding his abdomen. "Oh jesus, I don't even - Cas, they were having sex."

Castiel frowns over at him, folding his arms. "That's not what Gabriel sounds like. And he brought enough girls home that I needed to get sound-canceling headphones." It's true; although maybe that's because Gabriel was shy or uncomfortable knowing that his little brother was just down the hallway. It didn't stop him from picking girls up, but at least he wasn't as obnoxiously loud as the couple just a few doors down from them.

"You really didn't know?" Dean asks, mixture of pity and wonder in his voice. Castiel bristles, and either he's getting more obvious with his body language or Dean already has him figured out because he immediately starts backtracking. "Cas, it's not an insult. It's kinda funny, sure, but I wasn't saying it to mock you."

"I believe you," Castiel says, slight grin forming on his face as he glances up at Dean. "Now come on. We don't want to be late." He tugs on Dean's jacket sleeve, leading him out of the building. Dean follows with no complaint, seemingly content to let Castiel lead him wherever he wants.

They burst out into the sunlight and Castiel squints, trying to find Dean's car on the road. There's a gentle but firm grip on his elbow, and then he's being pulled in the opposite direction. Dean's car is in the lot opposite the one specific to the apartment complex, and Castiel makes a mental note to nab a parking pass from Naomi, the complex's landlord.

The sun is low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass as they hurry to Dean's car. Dean's obviously much more excited to see the documentary than Castiel is, but his enthusiasm is almost infectious.

Even if nothing ever happens with Dean, Castiel is glad to call him his friend.

"So, Cas, you need some background on this movie," Dean says, turning down the Metallica and glancing at Castiel out of the corner of his eye. "First off, there's James Kirk and Spock, the two main characters who are basically in love, and then there's Leonard McCoy - aka Bones - who doesn't take any of Kirk's shit, and also Nyota Uhura, who's Spock's flame. And then -"

"What?" Castiel says, eyes wide. There's too much information coming at him and he's a little overwhelmed. He doesn't think that he needs background information to make sense of the movie; they should explain it enough for him to understand it. Dean chuckles at his panicked look, patting his knee with his hand.

"Dude, if you don't wanna know everything you don't have to. Just remember that Kirk and Spock are arguably in love with each other."

Castiel nods, unsure of what type of movie they're going to go see. First he thought it was a space documentary, and then he was told it was a documentary about a movie about space, and now Dean's telling him it's a documentary about a movie about space and boyfriends and people with very strange names, and he feels a bit stressed. And it's just a movie. Dean turns the music up and starts singing along (rather well, actually), but Castiel can tell that he's not as happy as he was before. With a deep breath, Castiel reaches over and taps Dean on the shoulder.

"Can you run through that again?" he asks. Dean's eyes light up and he launches into a passionate explanation of storylines and plots and romantic moments and proper terms and his head is spinning but it's worth it. Dean's grinning like a fool as he explains it to Castiel, just happy that someone else is willing to listen to him. Which is interesting, because the second he walked into the bakery Castiel wouldn't have guessed he was this much of a nerd.

It's quite endearing, actually. Dean talks until they get to the theater, and Castiel leans back and just listens, watching Dean's expressions change as he explains. They pull in just before the movie begins, hurrying out of the car and almost running toward the theater. Castiel scans the parking lot for Gabriel's car, narrowing his eyes when he doesn't see it. Dean tugs at his arm, pulling Castiel into the theater and only letting go when they reach the booth.

"Two tickets to Inside Star Trek, please," Dean says, leaning on the counter and grinning at the pretty teenager sitting behind the glass. She sits up straighter and grins back, flipping her hair over her shoulder and leaning closer to Dean. Castiel frowns, looking between Dean and the girl, resisting the urge to pull Dean away and leave. He clasps his hands in the pocket of his trenchcoat.

The girl types something into her computer and frowns, glancing guiltily up at Dean. "Sorry," she says, shrugging. "We're all sold out for tonight's showing." She pushes away and sits back in her chair. Castiel doesn't need to see Dean's face to know that it fell, and he leans over and pats his shoulder. He doesn't say anything but he can feel Dean's disappointment.

"Is there anything you can do?" he asks the girl, voice low. She shrugs helplessly, biting her lip, and tries typing something new into the computer.

"I mean I can sell you tickets for tomorrow's showing, but that's really it."

"We'll take it," Castiel says, pulling out his wallet to pay for the tickets. It seems to shake Dean from his stupor, and he grabs Castiel's arm.

"No, wait... I'll pay for them. I asked you to come, I'll foot the bill." Dean pulls out his own wallet and flips it open, blocking Castiel with his elbow. He hands the girl a twenty and she gives him back two tickets, which Dean stuffs in his wallet. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Dean winks at her and grins, wrapping his arm around Castiel's shoulders. He steers them out of the theater and back to his car. Castiel lets himself be pulled along, smiling. He feels bereft of warmth when Dean moves his arm, kicking himself for not grabbing Dean back when he had the chance. They get in the car in silence, and he isn't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he tries, turning to face Dean. Dean shrugs his shoulders, starting up his car.

"Not your fault, Cas. Sorry for dragging you out here for nothing." Dean pulls out of the lot and turns up the radio, smiling reassuringly over at Castiel. "You know, actually, I could use a drink. You?"

Castiel grins back, nodding. "I'd love that. There's a place open near the bakery, it's an all-night bar. Me and Gabriel, we know the owner. It's called the Roadhouse."

"The Roadhouse? Really?" Dean chuckles, eyes crinkling. Castiel cocks his head, confused.

"I apologize, I thought it would be acceptable."

"Oh no, no, Cas, it's not a problem. Just a funny coincidence, I suppose. I know the owner too. Old family friend." Dean laughs, glancing over at Castiel. "Roadhouse it is."

\--

"I'm telling you, dude, there is no way you'll be able to drink all of these shots." Dean laughs and shoves a row of shot glasses toward Castiel. There's a challenge in his eyes, and Castiel just smirks and grabs the first one. He shakes his head, tapping his fingers along the bar.

"Time me," he says in a rough voice, preparing himself for the burn of alcohol as the liquid slides down his throat. He knocks them back one after another, Dean's eyes getting wider with each one he finishes. He finally reaches the last one and slams it down on the bar with a triumphant grin splayed across his face. Dean's mouth is open and he looks stunned, eyes tracing a drip of whiskey that's falling down Castiel's chin. There's a round of applause from everyone watching, and after a moment Dean joins in, still looking slightly shell-shocked. Castiel takes a mock bow, heady with the alcohol that makes everything else seem to move slowly. He barely registers a stiff hand tugging on his shoulder until he's halfway to the door. Dean is struggling next to him, pleading with someone Castiel can't see.

"C'mon, Ellen, it was just a couple of shots, we're fine!" Castiel flinches when he hears the name - there’s no way Gabriel wouldn’t hear about this now. Even so, there's something irreversibly hilarious about them getting evicted from the bar. He starts giggling, unable to contain his laughter at learning that the owner is kicking them out. The hand tightens on his shoulder and he hears Dean give an exasperated sigh next to him.

"No, Dean, you’re not. And get him home. Gabriel is gonna be pissed." The tone brokers no argument, and Castiel frowns. He doesn't want to go home. They've just started having fun. It shouldn't matter that the world is a little blurry and that it feels and sounds like he stuffed cotton into his ears. He folds his arm across his chest and stumbles out of the bar, shocked by the blast of warm wind that hits him. Even this late at night it's boiling out, and he pulls off his coat to try and get cool.

Dean's pushed out next to him, still pleading with Ellen to let them stay. Castiel puts on his best pleading face, even though Gabriel says it looks more sketchy and pervertish than anything remotely resembling something cute. He still tries though, a valiant effort that he hopes Dean at least would be proud of.

The door still shuts in their face; Castiel is standing there looking determinedly at the door, jacket in hand. Dean is leaning against the wall outside, forehead pressed against the plaster. He's muttering something quietly under his breath, and it's either the alcohol or the volume that causes Castiel to miss whatever he said. It doesn't stop him, however, from leaning forward and patting Dean heavily on the back.

"It's alright. There's got to be another bar open, it's only -" Castiel glances at his watch, stomach dropping into a pit when he sees the time. "Midnight."

Dean just chuckles humorlessly, waving away the detail. "You'll be fine. And I'm not pissed we got kicked out - hell, I've been kicked out for brawling before. It's that Ellen had to come do it. And now my folks'll find out." He punches the wall and Castiel flinches. He isn't sure what to say to calm Dean down, so he just stands by his shoulder, a - hopefully - comforting presence. Dean's muttering again, and Castiel is close enough to catch the last part.

"... don't need this shit." Dean's eyes are closed and his breath smells like the last shot they'd taken. Castiel screws up his nose, sure that his breath doesn't smell much better. The air seems to be helping circulation in his brain; already he feels more sober and put-together than he did ten minutes ago. He gently pulls at Dean's shirt, trying to get him to follow along.

"Come on, Dean, let's just sit you down somewhere." Castiel is aware enough of the situation to realize that neither he nor Dean are in any fit state to drive, so their best option is either waiting it out or calling Gabriel.

And there's no way that Castiel (or Dean, for that matter) would call Gabriel. Not only because he'd be a prick about it, but because he would hold it over their heads for days. Castiel’s still holding out hope that Ellen won’t call him, and let Castiel off the hook.

So instead of going home they stand awkwardly outside the bar. Castiel tugs on Dean’s arm, who seems to be more inebriated than he is, and wraps a hand around his shoulders. Thankfully the bar is across the street from a small dog park, one with benches along the nearest fence. They're still stumbling across the road as they walk, and Dean almost pulls Castiel down a couple of time. It's obvious that Dean is much worse off than Castiel, slurring his words and swearing about his family.

"Guess you're a depressive drunk, then," Castiel mutters, propping Dean up on the bench. The world is still tilted crazily, but he feels more in-control of his faculties and isn't worried about passing out on the street anymore. After an hour or so Dean will be able to drive (he hopes), because there is no way that Dean would ever let his baby stay in a lot overnight. With a sigh, Castiel sits down next to him, tilting his head back on the bench. He hears a chuckle come from next to him and turns his head, confused.

Dean is sitting there laughing, hands over his face as he leans back. "Dude," he chokes out, hitting Castiel in the shoulder. "We got kicked out of a bar. For being too drunk. If that isn't your biggest accomplishment yet then you're not living your life right." Castiel can't help but laugh too, finding it much funnier than it should have been.

Dean tries to stand up, but Castiel reaches out and makes sure he doesn't move much. He isn't willing to let Dean drive in this state, no matter how much he protests. Dean can call him whatever he wants, he won't let it happen.

"Cas. I'm fine," Dean grumbles, trying to push Castiel's hand off of him. The light post above them flickers out and Castiel blinks in the newfound darkness. He can only just barely make out Dean's outline, hand still resting on his shoulder. They sit there in silence, Dean's shoulders relaxing until Castiel feels confident enough that Dean won't run off to let go.

"So, what, we sit here until you deem me sober enough to drive?" Dean asks, stretching his arms along the bench. His hand is resting just above Castiel's shoulder, and his green eyes twinkle. The light flickers on again, bathing them in light, and Castiel squints. Dean laughs at him, reaching out and ruffling his hair. "You look like a confused cat."

Castiel swats his hand away, pouting. Dean just laughs again, head tipping down. It shouldn't be as endearing as it looks, and Castiel really shouldn't be smiling fondly at him when he should be annoyed. He just can't seem to help it.

He wonders when that started being a normal occurrence whenever he was around Dean.

"But really, are we just gonna sit here?" Dean says, glancing over at Castiel. He looks bored, and Castiel bites his lip.

"What's your favorite color?" he asks suddenly, not so much genuinely curious as trying to pass the time. It doesn't seem to get by Dean, either, who evaluates him with a considering look, before sighing and playing along. Castiel breathes a sigh of relief, unsure of what would have happened if they had to sit there awkwardly for an hour.

"Uh," Dean says, scratching the back of his neck. "Probably blue. But not like ocean blue, I like dark blues." Castiel nods; he'd have thought Dean's favorite color was red or green, and it was a surprise to hear that it was blue. "What about you, Cas?"

"I'm partial to the color orange." Seeing Dean's nose start to scrunch in confusion, he hastens to explain. "Not like vibrant orange, or anything like that. I like a burnished orange, the color you associate with sunset. I suppose blood orange would be a good way to describe it."

"Dude, it's fucking red," Dean says quietly, smiling. Castiel cocks his head, confused, and Dean waves his comment away with a hand. "Nevermind, it's, ah, an inside joke."

"Oh."

"So, if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?" Dean asks, turning his body so it's facing Castiel's on the bench. Castiel mirrors the position, resting his head on his propped-up hand. Dean still looks sort-of out of it, not really recovered from the alcohol. Neither of them are moving much, content to just sit on the bench. Castiel's head is still fuzzy, and he knows that the alcohol is still affecting him as well.

"I would love to go to Africa and spend time with the Red Cross there. It would be wonderful to help build homes and support the families living there in poverty," he says, smiling shyly. The last time he had told someone about this they had scoffed at him and called him someone with a savior complex. He hopes Dean won't react the same way, and is relieved when he just grins fondly, reaching out to gently punch Castiel in the shoulder.

"That's so noble," he teases, but Castiel knows it's not mocking. He chuckles along with Dean, watching the dim light from the streetlamp play off his face. He looks stunning like this, eyes looking darker than normal and face casting angular shadows along his chin.

"What about you, Dean?" Castiel asks, curious as to what Dean will say. He started this questioning thing as a way to pass the time, but he's becoming truly curious about Dean's answers. It's like a glimpse into him, and Castiel can't help but be fascinated. In a way, he's glad that they weren't able to see the movie. He'd expected to be driven home after and for Dean to not think anything of it. Instead, they were sitting on a sidewalk bench and sharing half-drunken conversations and thoughts.

He watched the way Dean's hands move while he speaks, expressive and callused. He assumes it's from his work as a mechanic, but Castiel thinks that perhaps they're softer tan they should be. Maybe, someday, he'll get a chance to see for himself. Even in his partially drunken state Dean wouldn't react favorably to someone - namely, Castiel - grabbing his hands and caressing them. The light is also dim enough for Castiel to watch his face without fear of being caught - his eyes light up when he talks about his likes and dislikes, animating his features. It's entrancing.

It takes him a moment to realize that Dean had been speaking. He blinks and tries to catch the end of it, watching Dean intently.

" - Germany or Scandinavia, probably. The mythology there is just insane. Plus, it isn't too hot or sunny so freckles won't take over my entire body." Dean shrugs, hands falling into his lap. "It's definitely on my bucket list."

"You like mythology?" Castiel asks, surprised. Although, looking at how enthralled Dean is with Star Trek and Star Wars and the like, he realizes that it shouldn't be as shocking as it is. "As do I. Although I prefer the mythos behind Asian and African cultures more than the European."

"Really?" Dean's eyes twinkle and Castiel smiles. "I've been into it since I was a kid. My dad turned me onto it - although he was more interested in Native American myths and creatures."

"Those are intriguing," Castiel says. "None of my brothers were ever as into it as I was - Gabriel would sometimes humor me and listen to me talk about it. He never complained, either."

"That sucks, man. My dad got me and my brother hooked; for a solid year we didn't do anything but look up mythology and make plans to go explore it, maybe kill us a monster and be heroes." Dean chuckles quietly, sad tone in his voice. "Never happened, of course. Other things got in the way. Like the army. And -" He cuts himself off, looking firmly down at the ground. His jaw is clenching, and Castiel decides not to say anything. He almost reaches out, pulling back at the last moment when he notices his tense shoulders. Waiting patiently for Dean to finish the sentence, Castiel scoots closer on the bench, letting their knees just barely touch, trying to show Dean that he wasn't alone in it. 'It' being whatever had Dean fiercely glaring downwards and not finishing his sentence.

"My dad wasn't big on the mythology," Castiel said quietly, filling the awkward silence. Dean didn't move, didn't shift at all, and he continued on. "Thought it distracted me from school. Once he came in my room to see how my math homework was coming and - well, I hadn't done it in favor of reading a book I'd just gotten. He grounded me for a week." His chest feels a bit tight, but he can tell that Dean's no longer tense and closed off. Dean glances up, meeting his eyes, sympathy clearly showing.

"I never actually saw that book again."

"Sorry about that, Cas," he says quietly, subdued. "That was dickish."

"I don't think that's actually a word," Castiel says, squinting confusedly at Dean. He laughs, diffusing some of the tension in the air, and Castiel feels like a weight has been lifted off of him. It's much easier to go back to simple and straightforward conversations, rather than dragging up painful memories for the both of them.

Dean's still laughing to his side, cheeks flushing as he chuckles. He's looking at Castiel with a fond expression, grin stretching across his face. "I don't know what it is, Cas, but you just turned my mood completely around. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Dean."

"You know, I've never told anyone about that - except for Sam, of course," Dean says, resting his head on the back of the bench. Castiel mimics his expression, looking up at the stars. They're silent, unmoving apart from the slight rise of their chests as they breathe. He glances over at Dean without shifting his head, watching him quietly. Almost as though he knows he's being watched, Dean turns his head to Castiel. Blushing, he looks away quickly, glancing down at his hands with a sense of embarrassment.

Dean stands up next to him, stretching his shoulders, and reaching a hand down to Castiel. "Come on, it's been 45 minutes, lets blow this. I'm tired and it's almost two am." He tugs on Castiel's hand, pulling him along behind him. Castiel tries to protest, weakly reminding Dean why neither of them should be driving. But his head feels clearer, and he's exhausted, so he's willing to give Dean the benefit of the doubt this one time.

Dean only lets go of his hand when they reach the Impala and slide in. He pulls out carefully and drives toward Castiel's house, careful not to turn the music up too loud. Castiel already regrets drinking so much, and he's sure that his body won't let him off easy tomorrow. Or, well, today, he supposes. And he still has to work. Maybe Gabriel will cut him some slack and call Sam in for him. The kid could start a little earlier than planned.

They reach the apartment in no time, and Castiel makes to get out of the car. He doesn't expect Dean to walk him in, and is pleasantly shocked when he does. "Dean, you really don't have to. I know how tired you must be," he says, but Dean has his "determined" face on (and really, what does it say about him that Castiel has categorized that face and can recognize it in the dark) and he follows Castiel up into the lobby of the apartment complex.

"So, you live here with Gabe?" Dean asks, glancing at the tacky decorations littering the wall. He keeps his voice down, seeing as it is 2 am, and Castiel imitates him.

"Yes. He and I have lived here since Gabriel turned 21 and got our parent's inheritance money. I was only 16." He stops talking as the elevator dings, unsure of if he even wants to continue. "This is our floor." He steps out of the elevator reluctantly, wanting to go to sleep but not really wanting Dean to leave either. Dean moves to step out of the elevator with him, and he moves to the side. They walk quietly down the hallway until they reach his apartment. Dean stops, looking a mixture of apprehensive and determined, before leaning in and placing a light kiss on Castiel's cheek.

Castiel doesn't move, stunned, and Dean gives him an easy smile. "Had a great time tonight, Cas. Same time tomorrow?" He winks, before backing down the hallway. He only turns around when he reaches the elevator, still giving Castiel a fond grin. the doors close around him and Castiel finally breathes.

Dean Winchester. Had kissed him.

Granted, it had only been on the cheek, but Castiel is having trouble believing that it was meant in a friendly way. Unless Dean acts that way with everyone, is one of those people who is comfortable with public affection and the touchy-feely... stuff. It takes him longer than he cares to admit to find his key, shocked as he is.

He reflects on how warm Dean's lips were. And smooth, in a way that his own constantly bitten lips could never be. It was just a brief touch, and to his cheek rather than his lips, but it still left him confused and dazed. He doesn't realize that he's smiling like a fool until he walks into the kitchen, where Gabriel stands with a tub of ice cream in one hand, spoon in the other. Castiel jumps, not expecting anyone to still be awake, but Gabriel doesn't so more than raise an eyebrow at him.

"Why do you look like the cat that got the cream? Unless you really did get the cream, if you know what I mean." Gabriel's eyebrows waggle suggestively; Castiel glares at him, before threatening to take away his ice cream. He backs away, hands clutching onto the ice cream, and relents.

"But really, why are you so... giddy? At least, until you gave me your scary death glare." .He takes another spoonful, glancing curiously at Castiel. He just shrugs, trying to subtly escape the kitchen. Worse still, he knows that his smile is coming back, which will make Gabriel even more suspicious.

"It's late, I'm gonna head off to bed, I think. As should you, Gabriel. We do have to work." Castiel smiles over at his brother before heading down the hallway to his room, relieved that he got out with minimal interrogation.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you reek of alcohol, bro! We'll talk about it later!" Gabriel calls after him, causing Castiel to duck his head nervously. He had thought the hour outside would have at least siphoned some of the stench off. With a sigh of relief, he makes it to his room, locking it and pulling his shirt over his head. Normally he'd change into sweats, but he's so tired that he just collapses on the bed in his shorts, passing out when his head hits the pillow.

\--

Castiel waits until after work to confront Gabriel about the night before. That morning he'd had a pounding headache, and as such hadn't wanted to even try and deal with anything or anyone. At least, not until he'd had his mandatory 5 cups of coffee. And work had been busy, especially with the Fourth right around the corner. He hadn't had time to ask Gabriel about it, and Charlie just evaded his questions every time Castiel tried to ask.

So, it comes to a head over dinner, when Gabriel isn't able to duck away or claim business when Castiel brings it up. Gabriel's going to be forced to sit there and listen, while Castiel finally gets the answers he wants.

"How was the showing last night?" he starts out, crossing his arms and glaring across the table at his brother. Gabriel doesn't react beside lifting his head from his plate. Castiel's tone brokers no evasion, and he even squints his eyes for good measure. Gabriel swallows his forkful of lo mein (it had been Chinese night) and regards Castiel with a calm purpose in his eyes.

"Good," he answers slowly, before turning back to his dinner. Castiel closes his eyes and counts to ten, trying not to make this a bigger deal than it needs to be.

"You sure?" he asks, leaning forward on the table and forcing Gabriel to make reluctant eye contact with him. "Because I looked for your car last night and it wasn't there."

Gabriel shrugs. "We parked in the back cause it was full. The guy at the ticket counter said that everyone came early for the showing."

Castiel smirks, tapping a finger against his glass. "Except the guy at the ticket booth was actually a girl."

Gabriel laughs, throwing his hands to the side. "Really? You know me, do you really think I'd remember that?"

Castiel shrugs back, certain that he's trapped Gabriel. He'd already talked to Charlie earlier, in a split second when they had a chance and while he would believe her, the stories aren't matching up. According to Charlie they went out for food before going back to the apartment, much like Dean and himself. Although, he doubts that her and Gabriel's excursion ended the same way. At least, he hopes so. Considering she has a girlfriend, he thinks he's set. Gabriel is shifting uncomfortably now, trying to pull his eyes away from Castiel's glare, but they keep flicking back.

He doesn't say anything, waiting for Gabriel to break on his own. This is how they used to act, when Michael was still in charge of them. He'd ask a question, Gabriel would lie, and then Castiel would glare at him until he told the truth. Gabriel always said the glare worked better than the puppy-dog face. After a tense couple seconds, Gabriel gives a heavy sigh, rubbing his hands together.

"Fine. God, you’re irritating… Me and Charlie didn't go to the showing, and we didn't plan to either. Figured we'd set you two mooks up on a blind date," Gabriel explains, unapologetic. Castiel frowns, biting at his lip. Gabriel is known for his pranks, but this seems like something extreme. For one, it dealt with his feelings, and back when Michael left them alone Gabriel had promised to never play with his emotions. So either Gabriel is going back on a promise he - admittedly - made a while ago, or there is more to the story.

"Why?" Castiel asks, what he feels to be a simple question. It doesn't explain why Gabriel suddenly looks cagy. His eyes dart around the room quickly, almost like he's searching for an exit. His face is unreadable, and Castiel just sighs, slumping down in his chair. "Please just tell me."

Gabriel looks like he's weighing the merits of keeping his secrets but, with a loud groan, buries his head in his hands. Thanks to that his next words are muffled, and Castiel strains to hear them. They sound like an expletive, so Castiel decides to let it slide. After a moment or so of the same profane muttering, Gabriel finally lifted his head, cheeks red. He looks almost embarrassed, and one hand sweeps through his hair.

"Fine. But remember, you asked for this." He grimaces, foot tapping agitatedly on the metal rail of the chair. "You're both pussies and won't get the balls to ask each other out. And it is frustrating as hell."

Castiel stops and thinks. Before last night, he'd have argued nonstop with Gabriel until he admitted that Dean didn't feel that way about him. But then he thought back to the kiss in the car and wonders what to say. Gabriel still doesn't know about it, and if it's up to him, he won't know until it's official. He doesn't really know why Dean kissed him in the car, unless -

Unless he has the same feelings for Castiel? Which might be why Gabriel was willing to break a promise to get them together. His head is spinning, and he doesn't recognize Gabriel sitting on the other armchair until something hits off his head. He blinks, glancing over to where Gabriel sits with a scowl on his face.

"Hello and welcome back to earth." Gabriel picks up the pillow he threw at Castiel and fluffs it. It lands in the other chair soundlessly, and Castiel watches it without really registering the motion. He shakes his head gently, trying to clear it, and and focuses on Gabriel.

"Dean will be here soon," Castiel mumbles, fingers tangling themselves up in the pocket of his pants. Gabriel's face falls, quickly being covered by the mask of indifference he knows so well. Suddenly he feels like he needs to reassure Gabriel, so he calls out at his brother's retreating back.

"Gabriel, wait-" Castiel isn't sure what exactly to say, so he starts with something easy. "I'm sorry for getting angry, I know you only have my best interests at heart." Gabriel's mouth curves up into an almost-smile, which Castiel counts as a win. "And I want tomorrow off." He nods, and Castiel knows that they're just fine. He and Gabriel have never been able to stay angry with each other for long, although Castiel is still annoyed that he hadn't let him have a chance to figure it out for himself.

A horn beeps outside and he grabs a light coat and his wallet, stuffing it in the pocket of his shorts. Gabriel just laughs, motioning with his hands for Castiel to get a move on. He grins, tossing Gabriel a candy bar he found in the pocket of the coat, and hurries out the door. Dean is halfway up the walkway, hands in the pockets of his leather coat.

"Second try's the charm, right?" Dean says, grin on his face. He leans against the door, hands in his pockets. He's come to pick Castiel up for the movie, and he waves the tickets around. Castiel just rolls his eyes and steps outside, shutting the door behind him.

"I do not believe that is the correct phrase," he tells Dean, chuckling when Dean just sighs mock-exasperatedly. "But, I do hope that we're able to see it tonight."

"Did you ask Charlie and Gabriel about last night?" Dean asked, glancing sidelong at Castiel. He grimaces, still frustrated at his brother. Dean mistakes this for something else - what, Castiel isn't sure - and backs off. "Or you don't need to say anything, it's fine."

"No, Dean, it's not you. It's Gabriel. He and Charlie conspired to give us alone time at the movies because, and I quote, 'we're both pussies who don't have the balls to ask each other out.'" Dean is silent, twirling his keys around on his finger. They reach the car but don't get in, staring at each other over the top of the car. He looks like he's distracted by something big, attention pulled away from Castiel. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before taking a deep breath.

"And would that be such a bad thing?" he asks quietly, eyes shifting away from Castiel, almost like he's embarrassed. Castiel blinks, startled. Sure, Dean had kissed his cheek last night, but he hadn't thought it'd actually meant anything. Not for longer than it took for the alcohol to wear off, anyway. It had been a long and boring day at work, one which Castiel dedicated to his thoughts. He'd had a few breakthroughs, namely that he felt a strong attraction to Dean and that the possibility that Dean felt that same link to him was negligible at best. But his - admittedly short - conversation with Gabriel had led him to hope again. It had taken some self-convincing to even go with Dean to the movie tonight. He was still confused, not sure of what it even meant or if he should attribute any meaning to it.

He knows that he has feelings for Dean, feelings that are too strong for only having had known him a short time. And he's never expected those feelings to even be returned. Dean still isn't looking at him and Castiel feels wrong footed, unsure of how to respond.

"No," he says slowly, watching for Dean's reaction. "That wouldn't be a bad thing at all." He knows he said the right thing when Dean grins at him over the car, almost shyly. He gets in, motioning for Castiel to follow suit.

It’s almost anticlimactic; Castiel wouldn’t have wanted it to happen any other way.

"Good." Dean leans over and turns the music on. "Now, do we need a refresher course or are you all set?"

\--

They had arrived just in time, dashing into the theater and grabbing two seats in the top corner. Dean had run off to buy popcorn and Castiel stayed there, saving Dean's seat and pulling out the candy that Gabriel had stashed in the coat. He'll never know it was missing. The lights dim just as Dean returns to his seat, and he grins fondly, listening to the sighs coming from next to him. Castiel leans over, eyes locked on Dean's hand sitting on the armrest between them. He could reach over and grab it and it would be so easy... but he can't. Dean might react badly, or he wouldn't, but Castiel finds that he doesn't want the first time they hold hands to be in a dark movie theater.

Soon enough those thoughts are out of his head, attention pulled toward the screen. Castiel is entranced by the movie, gasping out loud and attracting the attention of some of the closer audience members. He swears out loud at one point, earning himself some dirty glares from the parents in the theater. Dean looks amused whenever it happens, chuckling quietly under his breath. Turns out that Dean's earlier descriptions were incredibly helpful, giving Castiel an insight to the movies he hadn't had earlier.

As they leave the room Castiel is gripping onto Dean's arm, probably leaving bruises, shocked after the surprise ending which promised both a return of Captain Kirk and a comeback of the entire franchise. Dean is laughing out loud, a more contained version of his earlier outburst, and Castiel can't help but lean into him and scrunch up his nose, trying to comprehend certain parts.

Most of the movie had been about behind-the-scenes stuff, but there were scenes from the movie and something else that had captured Castiel's attention. The documentary was fascinating, telling a wonderful story that was unique and intriguing. He pulls away from Dean with a confused look on his face, trying to connect some of the pieces.

"Dean I don't understand. Why was Jim purposely pushing Spock away, especially if they were as in love with each other as you said?"

"Well, sometimes people push away the ones they love if they know being close would hurt them," Dean explains, tilting his head consideringly. Castiel frowns,

"Dean that doesn't make sense. Why would you push away the people who could make you stronger? Love isn't a weakness, it's a strength." Castiel smiles softly, picturing the final touching scene in his head. "Thank you for taking me. It was a wonderful experience, although now all I want is more Star Trek… are there more movies?"

Dean just grins, looping an arm around Castiel's neck. "Sorta. Originally there were TV shows, a couple seasons...We can watch them if you want?"

Castiel nods decisively, hand gripping Dean's sleeve. "I would like that very much." He tosses the popcorn bag into the trash, pulling at Dean's arm. "We can start tonight."

"Whoa, hold up there, space cadet." Dean chuckles, pulling Castiel back. "We need to get you home, aren't you working tomorrow?"

"I'm taking the day off. Paying Gabriel back for this entire debacle," Castiel declares, already beginning to plan out how to rip Gabriel a new one for intentionally setting Dean and himself up. It would be a lot easier if it was horribly awkward. But truth was, he had a lot of fun, and it's hard to muster up any ill will toward Gabriel right now. That doesn't mean he won't be able to fake it later on. "He's already agreed."

"Still," Dean says, steering Castiel out of the theater. "Kept you up late last night-" and Castiel tries not to think of a different circumstance in which Dean would use those same words, "wouldn't want you getting tired tomorrow. Your brother would kill me."

Castiel sighs but capitulates, letting Dean escort him to his car and tuck him in the passenger seat. "Dean, I can do this myself," he grouses, trying to situate himself in the seat without resorting to pushing Dean away. Dean just grunts and backs off, going around to the other side of the car. He starts up the car, but just sits there, not putting it into drive or anything. "Dean?"

"Hm?" Dean says, eyes flicking to Castiel.

"Have you forgotten how to drive?"

Dean rolls his eyes at him, roughly pulling the car out of the parking lot. "I was thinking."

"Obviously."

"Shut it." But the look Dean gives him is fond, and Castiel knows he isn't really offended. He waits a moment more for Dean to continue, sitting quietly in the car. The music is barely playing, a quiet Beatles song that Castiel remembers his parents listening to on hot summer nights. Nights much like the one tonight, he thinks, allowing himself a small smile at the memory of his parents. They used to dance to this song, spinning around in the sun room and laughing. When Castiel was small enough they would pick him up in their arms and hold him between them. Sometimes, Michael and Gabriel would join them, tapping their feet to the tempo but refusing to dance. Gabriel had complained how girly it was, but Michael had always pretended to be above it all.

He blinks, pulled back from the memories by Dean's voice.

"So, Cas. Fourth of July is coming up. Got any plans?" He sounds casual, but Castiel can tell he's nervous by the way his fingers tap on the steering wheel. He's almost resolutely not looking in Castiel's direction, determined look on his face. Castiel shakes his head before realizing that Dean can't actually see him.

"Usually Gabriel and I go see our older brother, Michael. But he's out of town on business, again, and Gabriel's spending it with Kali. God only knows why, she's just using him. He just doesn't get it, and keeps crawling back to her the second she crooks a finger. So no, I don't have any plans." Dean makes a noncommittal sound, nodding his head slowly. Castiel chews the inside of lip while he waits for Dean to respond, assuming that there was a point to the question. He's proved right a moment later when Dean bursts.

"Do you want to go watch fireworks with me?" It's said in a rush of breath, and Dean's face is slowly reddening. He still hasn't looked at Castiel, but he can see Dean swallowing heavily. Grinning softly, he reaches out and puts a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I would love to," he says, chuckling softly when Dean turns to look at him with a surprised expression. "Did you think I'd say no?"

Dean just shrugs, looking relieved. He nods, turning his gaze back to the steering wheel. "I assume I'll see you at the bakery before then, and we can hammer out the details then. Okay?" Castiel responds with his agreement, content to just sit there in silence. He's already wondering about what he and Dean will do, where they'll go to watch the fireworks. Perhaps they'll go into the city and find an empty lot where they can see around the buildings. Or maybe they'll go to Clinton Marina and sit on the docks, where they could see the fireworks over the lake.

Either way, Castiel is sure it'll be wonderful. He'll be with Dean, which always ends up well, and it'll be the Fourth. Nothing can go wrong on that holiday.

All too soon they're pulling up in front of Castiel's apartment. He moves to get out of the car, wishing he could have spent more time with Dean. He's halfway out of the car before an idea strikes him, and he turns back. He leans in and gives Dean a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, pulling back with a grin. Dean looks shocked, eyes wide and cheeks flush.

"I had a good time tonight. Thank you for taking me, Dean." Dean gives a half-coherent "y-yeah," before Castiel pushes back out of the car and shuts the door. He watches as Dean sits there, lifting a finger to his lips, before quirking them up into a smile and driving away. He heads up to the apartment, careful not to wake his brother, and creeps to his room. Thankfully, Gabriel isn't waiting in the kitchen to ambush him, and he's able to slip through the apartment quietly. Once he's in his room, he leans back against the door, lips still tingling.

He can't believe that he kissed Dean. That he actually leaned in and kissed him. It was only for a second, sure, but it had left Dean completely speechless. And Castiel had felt a warm trickle of something in his stomach after the kiss; even now he still felt giddy, unable to stop smiling.It was only a month ago where he couldn't even picture himself liking anyone else, much less being liked in return.

It's with that thought in his head and a smile on his face that he falls into dreams of him and Dean, doing much more than kissing.

\--

The Fourth comes before Castiel's even ready for it.

Dean had stopped in earlier that week to figure out the details for their outing - Castiel wasn't sure if it counted as a date, even though Charlie and Sam had both said it did (Gabriel had twisted it into something much more crude) - and they agreed on a meeting time. Dean had refused to tell Castiel where they were going, which  frustrated him to no end. All he knew was that Gabriel was having Kali over, and he hoped to be out of the house before she got there. She'd never expressed anything but dislike for Castiel, which was one of the reasons Gabriel had broken up with her the first and second times. As of now, they were currently on their fifth go-around of the same cycle, and Castiel would rather not have his life ruined before heading out on the outing with Dean.

He and Gabriel had bickered earlier that day, about him coming home and smelling like he had been thrown into a keg, and how he was "keeping secrets". He had tried to explain it to Gabriel, but ended up on the defensive. They hadn't really reached a consensus on how naive Castiel had or hadn't been. He'd been apologetic, of course, but Gabriel refused to accept just that.

Somewhere along the way Gabriel had tricked him into agreeing to have a flag painted on his face in the spirit of the season. Or as penance, Castiel isn't really sure anymore. So now he sits in front of Gabriel, pouting, and squirming away from the brush. Gabriel scowls at him, brow furrowing in concentration, and tries to hold Castiel's head still.

"Stop moving," he says, frustrated, and dips the brush back into the red paint. Castiel tries to hold still, but once the cold brush tickles his cheek he jerks away again. Gabriel sighs loudly, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at Castiel. "I told you to stop."

"I'm trying!" Castiel says, frowning. "The brush tickles, I can't help it." He leans back when Gabriel approaches him again, smiling sheepishly. Gabriel just cocks an eyebrow disapprovingly, and Castiel ducks his head. "Sorry."

"I'm almost done, just don't move." A few quick strokes later and Gabriel steps back, gazing critically at Castiel's face. He washes the brush out and adds the blue to it, painting quickly while Castiel struggles not to move. After a few agonizing seconds Gabriel drops the brush in the pail of water, nodding decisively. "Finished."

He grabs a mirror and hands it to Castiel, who turns it so he can see the flag painted along the side of his face. It's remarkably well done, and he reaches a hand up to brush against it. His hand is grabbed in a vice-tight grip, and he glances from the mirror to see Gabriel glaring at him.

"You touch it and I'll kill you. You've already made it a hard process as it is," Gabriel warns, letting go of his hand. It falls back to Castiel's side, and he contents himself with simply observing the flag in the mirror. He turns his head this way and that, watching as it catches the light and seems to shine.

"Gabriel, this is wonderful," he says, grinning at his reflection. Gabriel just shrugs, strangely modest, and claps Castiel on the back.

"Well, you didn't make it easy, but it does look good, doesn't it?" He turns away and tosses a blanket at Castiel, who catches it and looks down in confusion. Gabriel sighs and throws his hands in the air. "Ground ain't gonna be comfortable, no matter where you go."

"We could sit on Dean's car -"

Gabriel cuts him off quickly, shaking his head frantically. "Have you seen how that kid treats his car? It's more important than his firstborn. Cas, bro, if you wanna tap that then you gotta start paying attention. Rule one of a relationship: respect a man's wheels." He rolls his eyes at Castiel, smirking. "You'd be lost without me."

Castiel shoves Gabriel away, jumping up from the chair when he hears a horn honking from the parking lot. "I'm leaving!" he calls out, waving to Gabriel over his shoulder. He hurries out of the apartment, closing the door on Gabriel's loud "if there's a sock on the door when you get home, don't come in!"

Dean is waiting in the parking lot, leaning back on his car. He grins when he spots Castiel, holding up a hand in a wave. There's not much time left for them to get wherever they're headed - the sun is almost beginning to set and the fireworks are slated to begin right at nightfall. He is greeted with a kiss to the cheek, Dean grabbing his wrist and pulling him close. He blushes after Dean's lips have left his skin, smiling shyly. Not to mention that he already kissed Dean the other day, and he'd woke up this morning with damp underwear after some of his more vivid dreams featuring Dean.

They get into the car quickly and Dean turns up the music, as per usual. Castiel tries to hold himself back from asking about where they're going; Dean had already said that he wouldn't tell Castiel, but eventually his curiosity wins out.

"Where are we watching the fireworks from?" he asks. It's an innocent enough question, he thinks, but Dean doesn't budge.

"Not tellin', Cas. Part of the whole 'surprise' deal, you know."

Castiel pouts over at him, hoping that it would work better on Dean than it had on Ellen the night they were kicked out of the Roadhouse. But Dean just shakes his head and laughs, grinning over at Castiel.

"Nice try, but no. Just enjoy the ride, we'll be there in no time at all." Dean turns his attention back to the road, humming absently along to the music coming through the speakers. Castiel relaxes against the seat and watches the trees whip past outside. After some time, Dean turns onto a dirt road; there's a small sign that's too far away for Castiel to read and he squints, trying in vain to get any information from it.

Dean glances over when Castiel's head moves up and hits the window. Castiel pulls back with a grimace, rubbing at it.

"That was smooth." He chuckles, bringing the car to a stop. "We're here."

They step out of the car and Castiel glances around, impressed with the privacy and sheer beauty of the clearing.

"Dean, where are we?" Castiel asks, looking around the campsite. There's a small cabin sitting up on a hill above a dock that leads out into the lake. It's serene and beautiful, trees casting shadows down onto the wood. There's a picnic basket and a cooler on the dock, next to a box that Castiel assumes are full of small fireworks.

"My parents bought this cabin a couple years ago and they let me use it if I ask. Sam, too. As long as we keep it clean and don't do anything too illegal, they don't mind." Dean grins at him, motioning for them to move down to the dock. Castiel didn't notice the blanket that was spread out over a good portion of the dock, edges hanging just over the water. "But, to answer your question, we're at Clinton. Right on the reservoir, actually. There's a great view of the fireworks through the trees."

"Dean, it's beautiful."

"Yeah, it does the job." Dean glances around the clearing fondly, leaning out to rest on one of the poles over the dock. He takes the blanket that Castiel had brought and spreads it over the other one, muttering something about the "damn hard dock." Castiel watches him set it all up, still entranced by the sheer beauty of the entire area. It's like a secret hideaway, one Dean seems to come to often. He glances down the dock, expecting a clear water in anticipation of the fireworks tonight.

He's startled to see a boat tethered to the dock, just behind an old rowboat that looks as though it might fall apart at any time. The other boat is sleek and obviously well taken-care of. It's called the Leviathan, and Castiel can't help but stare at it.

"Like the boat?" Dean's voice is a sudden break in the silence, and Castiel turns guiltily toward him. He should've offered to help, rather than admiring the scenery. But Dean doesn't look angry, he looks proud. His gaze is resting on the boat, and Castiel just knows that it's as valued as the Impala. Perhaps less so, but it's still one of Dean's babies.

He nods in response, despite not really understanding the appeal of boating, walking the short distance down the dock to see her up close. The slightly musty smell of algae permeates the air, and Castiel wrinkles his nose. It's not unpleasant, really; it just seems out of place, and he doesn't understand why. Dean notices his reaction, clapping a hand on his back, and gives him a sympathetic smile.

"The smell does take some getting used to. By the end of the show you won't even notice."

Castiel nods absently, sitting down on the blankets. Dean stretches out beside him, laying back with his head on his hands. The water splashes gently against the rocks, just missing them. He curls up, wrapping his arms around his knees. The sunset is beautiful, hazy pinks coloring the sky. Dean sighs contentedly next to him, and Castiel glances down. His shirt is riding up a bit, exposing his stomach. It's tanned and fit; Castiel tears his gaze away quickly when he realizes that he's staring.

The first crack of fireworks starts, even though it isn't fully dark yet. They explode in the sky and Castiel gasps. Dean had been right - there's a perfect view of them through the trees. The sun sets quickly, and soon enough the fireworks are illuminating the entire night sky. Reds and whites come most often, spiraling out into beautiful shapes. He's completely entranced, constantly looking over at Dean to see if he shares his excitement.

"They're amazing," he murmurs in the space between two fireworks. His eyes are glued to the sky, only pulling away when Dean softly agrees. Dean isn't looking at the sky or the fireworks, gaze instead locked on Castiel. It's intense and direct, and Castiel loses his train of thought. There's another crack but Castiel doesn't notice, eyes tracing the line of Dean's lips. He moves forward almost without meaning to; Dean's breath hitches and his hand lands on Castiel's thigh.

There's another silence between the constant cracks of the fireworks, and Castiel leans forward and presses his lips to Dean's. It's like an explosion itself, Dean gasping into his mouth and arms twisting around Castiel's back. He feels lightheaded and short of breath, pulling away from Dean's lips to breathe in shorts bursts of air before coming back to taste Dean. Their tongues slide against each other, his hands dragging desperately up Dean's sides and back. It's completely overwhelming and messy and right and something that Castiel has never known he's needed.

He doesn't care that the American flag Gabriel painted on his cheek is smudged, rubbing off and staining Dean's hand. He doesn't care that he's acting desperate, pulling himself as close to Dean as physically possible, huffing out-of-breath moans against his mouth as he tries to control himself.

The smoke from the fireworks fades away as they kiss. Castiel pulls on Dean's collar and tugs him down, falling back into the dock with a soft "oof". Late fireworks go off again, illuminating the small area with bursts of light. Dean moves above Castiel, pressing him down into the dock and begins kissing down his jaw and neck. Dean's lips brush slowly across the scar on his neck and he freezes, hand automatically coming up and pushing Dean away. Dean stops moving too, glancing confusedly down at him.

"Uh, Cas?" he says, gaze flicking to where his arm is held in Castiel's vice like grip. He wiggles his fingers and Castiel lets go quickly, like he's been burned. "Everything okay?"

He blinks slowly, registering Dean's hand resting gently on his upper arm, and smiles weakly. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Nothing to be sorry for." He looks worried, eyeing Castiel up and down like he's trying to see what the problem could be. "Cas, what's up? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it was silly. I'm fine." He smiles weakly, leaning back up and pressing kisses along Dean's jaw. Dean kisses back almost automatically, before pushing him away and looking at him with concern painted across his features.

"No, you're not," he says, hands dropping from Castiel's shoulders to hold his forearms. "Cas, talk to me."

"There's nothing to tell," Castiel says quietly, refusing to meet Dean's gaze. He hears Dean sigh frustratedly, trying to catch his gaze. "Really."

"Cas, you froze up and stopped moving when I did something, and now you're not even looking at me. Obviously it's something. " Dean deadpans, folding his arms. He sighs again when Castiel doesn't answer, tapping at his chin until he lifts his head to make eye contact.

"Dean, can we please just forget about it?" Castiel pleads, biting his cheek. Dean looks stubborn, eyes not leaving his.

"No, we can't, because I care about you and something's wrong. And I'd rather know now than do it again later on, okay?" He says, eyes softening. He reaches out a hand and grabs Castiel's, squeezing it comfortingly. "You don't have to give me the whole story, but please just tell me what I did."

Castiel takes a deep breath, eyes closing. He chews on the inside of his cheek, unsure of where to start. When he opens his eyes Dean's gaze is still locked with his, displaying his anxiety and concern. "There was a fire, long ago. I got that scar, and I guess it's sensitive. I haven’t really had much chance to learn that before now."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Dean asks, voice soft. His thumb is rubbing along Castiel's comfortingly. Castiel shakes his head, trying to hold back the tears as the memories flood into his head. It had already been ten years since the fire, and he still reacted badly when the topic came up. He thought he would be over it by now - Gabriel didn't seem affected, and Michael had never lost his composure after their parents' death. It was just Castiel who overreacted and panicked, and he needed to get over it.

It takes Dean's hands on his face, green eyes staring worriedly into his, before he realizes that his breath is coming in short gasps and that his fingers are curled tight over Dean's wrists. He lets himself be pulled into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Dean's shoulders. It takes another moment before he realizes that Dean is muttering words of comfort, lips brushing against his ear.

"Hey, hey... it's okay, you don't have to say anything, just relax, Cas," Dean is saying, clutching him tight. He curls in, tears spilling over and soaking Dean's jacket.

"Dean," he eventually says, pulling back with red-rimmed eyes. "I want to tell you. Maybe it will help, I don't know."

Dean looks surprised, almost. And then his face sets in resolve and he stands, reaching a hand down to Castiel. "Come on," he says, "if you're going to tell me, lets not do it lying in the grass." Castiel lets himself be pulled up, following Dean back to the small cabin. It takes Dean a couple of tries to open the door, which he shrugs away, motioning for Castiel to come in. There are only three rooms in the kitchen. A small kitchen, a bedroom, and what Castiel assumes is the living room. There are cots spread out around the room, all with folded blankets on them. A lumpy sofa sits in the corner across from a small tv, and Dean steers them both to it. Castiel leans into him when they sit, unable to face him while telling the story. He doesn't want to see Dean's reaction; he's seen enough pity over the years to be completely numb to it.

Dean silently wraps an arm around him, not saying anything. Castiel knows that he's trying to give him time to collect himself, and he takes a deep breath.

"Remember how you were taken aback by my name at first? My parents were very religious, and they would take all three of us to church every Sunday morning. They were both very devout, and a little distant. I was always closer to my mother than my father, mostly because he was away on business trips for a large portion of my childhood." His voice is steady, and he can feel Dean rubbing his arm.

"I used to live in Pontiac, Illinois. I wasn't really raised by my parents. When Michael, my oldest brother, was deemed to be old enough, they began going on mission trips. Me and Gabriel were left in Michael's care, and he was forced to raise us. I suppose that's why I could never connect to him - he was always more of a father than a brother. Gabriel and I used to give him so much trouble... well, mostly Gabriel.

"It wasn't necessarily a bad life, it was just... lonely. I had Gabriel, but my parents were never around. We still went to church and I can remember asking God why he continues to push our parents away, but..." Castiel softens to a whisper, eyes closing as he remembers what came next.

"Our parents decided to spend a complete summer with us, instead of going to whatever third-world country to help build homes. I felt so selfish, because I would rather spend time with them than have them leave and help others."

"Cas..." Dean says quietly, cutting him off. There is steel in his gaze when he forces Castiel to look at him. "You know that's not selfish, right? You were their kid, you had every right."

"I know that now. But as a child, especially one devoted to God, it felt like I was pulling them away from people who needed them more.

"I was 11 when it happened. It was just a regular night; they had taken us out for ice cream after one of Gabriel's baseball games. On the drive home Michael was arguing with them about college for the next year - he wanted to get out of state, but they weren't allowing him to because of us. It... it ended badly, Michael left the house and yelled something about going to his friends. We didn't see him for a couple nights."

Dean's hand tightens infinitesimally on his arm, but Castiel doesn't register it. His voice has no inflection in it anymore, telling the story almost robotically.

"It was the night he got back. No one knows how it happened, we all woke in the middle of the night to a huge fire. Gabriel was in my doorway, screaming for me to get out. Michael was yelling somewhere else, and all I really remember was the heat. There wasn't any time to grab anything, Gabriel just pulled me out of my bed and we ran down the hall.

"At one point, the rafter above us broke and fell. It caught Gabriel on the back after he pushed me out of the way. He -" Castiel's voice breaks and his hand curls into Dean's shirt. "I thought he was dead, but then all of a sudden Michael was there pulling him out and we just ran."

He swallows heavily, trying to fight back the panic and urge to escape that was rising in him. The warmth encircling him wasn't a fire, it was Dean. It was the man he was falling for and he didn't need to run anymore. He was safe.

"The house collapsed once we were outside. And our parents were nowhere to be seen. I had to go to the hospital because of the smoke inhalation, and I had burns around my neck and arms. Gabriel's back was completely destroyed, and for a while we thought he was going to die.

"Michael didn't say anything for a whole day, just paced outside of Gabriel's room and talked to some police officers. They suspected arson, but never found any proof."

"Cas, I'm so sorry," Dean whispers, sympathy in his eyes, and Castiel just nods, shying away from the emotion there.

"We were in the hospital for what felt like forever. I had burns all over my neck, and this scar was the only one that didn't completely heal. Gabriel was allowed to leave after a week, once he had stabilized. We didn't have any family in the area, so Michael and Gabriel bought a cheap apartment for the two of us. Michael wouldn't be given our parents' money until he was 21, so he and Gabriel worked for hours to pay for school and the apartment and food... it wasn't easy on either of them.

"And Michael had changed. Became much more businesslike, more intolerant. It was like it took the death of our parents to turn him into the perfect son. We didn't go to church anymore. I snuck out one night and went to sit in the cathedral. No one was around, and I remember screaming up at the ceiling. I questioned why God had taken my parents, why they had been the ones to die when there were such horrible people in the world-" he chokes off the last word, not noticing the tears that had started falling down his cheeks. Dean looked distraught, eyes red, as he watched Castiel begin to fall apart.

"I lost my faith that day. In God, in the church, in everything. The reason I have this scar... I picked at the scab until it tore off, every time one formed. It was what I believed to be my penance, and now that I know better I can't be rid of the horrible reminder."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, wiping at his eyes. Dean is still next to him, lips pressed in a thin line. Castiel turns his head into Dean's chest and lets his emotions take over, tears pouring down his face as he gasps out half-formed words. Dean just shushes him and leans back on the couch, pulling Castiel down until he's resting on top of him. His hands run through Castiel's hair, stroking comfortingly while he whispers quiet apologies into his ear.

"The reason I dropped out of school was because there was a fire in my dorm. Everything I had was reduced to ash, and I just couldn't handle it. Moved back in with Gabriel, and I just worked at the bakery. I just.. I can't go back to school, I can't escape the memory, I don't know what to do anymore, sometimes."

Castiel's entire body is trembling, completely exhausted from reliving everything about that night. He's never talked to anyone but Missouri about that, after he had moved here to live with Gabriel. It was... a relief, almost, to tell someone else. It lifted some of the pain and guilt over his heart, and he just lets himself shake in Dean's arms. Dean is rubbing his back, quiet tears falling from his own eyes.

They sit there in silence, apart from the occasional sniffle or sigh. Castiel has never felt this comforted, and he feels calmer. He closes his eyes, arms coming around Dean's neck as he buries his head in his neck.

He doesn't mean to fall asleep, tears still soaking into Dean's shirt. But he can't help it, and Dean just shuffles him into a more comfortable position before closing his own eyes and kissing his forehead.

He wakes the next morning still curled into Dean, tears dry on his face and feeling not at all rested. The memories from last night come back in full force and Castiel flinches away, mind reeling from the depth of the emotion he'd shown last night. He hadn't even told Dean about the other fire, the one that had pushed him to Kansas.

His movements cause Dean to stir under him, eyes opening blearily. Arms tighten around his back as Dean grins sleepily, sighing contentedly into Castiel's hair.

"G'morning," Dean rumbles, hand tracing lazily up and down Castiel's back. Castiel grins back, unwilling to leave the warmth of Dean's embrace.

"Good morning yourself."

"Wha'time is't," Dean slurs, still half-asleep. Castiel pulls his phone out from his pocket, groaning when he sees five missed calls from Gabriel and multiple texts from Charlie. He shoots off a quick message to his brother - I'm okay, stayed over at the cabin - before squinting down at the small screen.

"Almost noon," he says, rolling ungracefully off of Dean and falling to the hard wooden floor. He lays there for a second while Dean's head pops over the side of the couch, eyes crinkling  in laughter when he sees Castiel on the floor. "You okay down there?" He bursts out into laughter when Castiel scrunches his nose.

"Ow," he says, rubbing at the back of his head. Dean swings his legs over the side of the couch and grabs Castiel's hand, pulling him up.

"Where's the fire?" Dean jokes as Castiel rushes around the cabin. His face blanches when he realizes what he just said, but Castiel waves away the comment, rolling his eyes at him, pausing halfway through putting his jacket on.

"I was supposed to work today, and Gabriel is probably worried sick."

Dean just shrugs. "Well, you're already late. Wanna stay for some breakfast?"

Castiel nods, following Dean through the small door into the kitchen. He goes to sit at the table, leg shaking anxiously as Dean rummages through the fridge and cabinets. He emerges with a carton of eggs and a few packs of spices, tossing them all on the counter.

"Thank God Mom stocked up when we came up last weekend." Dean begins cooking the eggs, leaving them to heat up while he comes to sit next to Castiel. "Are you okay? Y'know, after last night and all?"

Castiel nods slowly, leg finally stilling. "I believe so. I don't feel as panicky this morning." He pauses. "Thank you. For listening."

"Cas, you don't need to thank me." Dean leans back in his chair, regarding him for a moment. The sound of sizzling eggs comes from the stove and he leaps up with a muttered "fuck", rushing over. Castiel watches him putter about, smiling fondly. He recognizes a warm feeling spreading in his chest, not unlike the heat from the fire. Gabriel and Charlie might think him unschooled and naïve in matters of relationships, but he knows enough to realize what's happening. He's falling for Dean. And quickly, too.

It isn't as worrying as he thought it would be. He likes the feeling, and though he wouldn't call it love just yet, he can feel them both on a precipice of something... more. One push, and they'll be over the edge. And while Castiel has a healthy fear of the unknown, he doesn't feel that around Dean. It feels safe, natural; he isn't worried about what could happen next, and he's willing to wait for fate to play her part.  

He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice Dean trying to catch his attention until there are fingers snapping in front of his face. He jerks back, almost falling out of his chair until Dean grabs hold of it.

"Watch out," Dean says, grinning. "Spaced out there for a second?" He sets a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of Castiel, taking the seat across from him. They eat in silence for a moment before Dean pushes away his plate. Castiel glances up to see Dean watching him, swallowing his mouthful.

"What?" he asks, tilting his head. Dean has a grin on his face and his head is resting in his propped-up hand.

"Your hair. It looks like it got blown to one side by a leaf blower full of hairspray,"  he sniggers, pointing at his head. Castiel groans, attempting to flatten it down. Dean grabs his hands, pressing them together, and noses against his cheek. There's a light kiss pressed to his cheek before Dean is off, grabbing their plates and heading to the sink.

Once everything is washed and dried, they sit together on the couch. Castiel still feels like he should be going to work, but he'd texted Gabriel while Dean was making the eggs and had been told to stay there. So he stayed. He leans back against the armrest and puts his feet in Dean's lap. Dean strokes along his ankle, hand wrapped around his shin.

"You're so bony," Dean remarks.

Castiel huffs, folding his arms. He pulls his foot out of Dean's lap, sitting up against the armrest. "You didn't complain earlier. In fact-"

"Hey, hey..." Dean soothes, pulling Castiel's foot back into his lap. "I wasn't complaining. I think it's cute."

"I'm not cute."

"You're kinda cute. Especially when you do that angry kitten face." Castiel glares at him. "Exactly! That's the face."

Castiel tries to hold the glare, but Dean's fond smile stops him. He can't keep it up - he can feel his frown turn up into a grin, and leans forward to twine his hand with Dean's. They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, until Dean stops rubbing Castiel's ankle. There's a steely look on his face, much like the one he'd had last night.

"Did I ever tell you about Kabul?" he says suddenly, turning to face Castiel. Castiel shakes his head, trying to think back.

"You mentioned the bomb and some of the aftermath, but nothing more in depth than that," Castiel says, unsure of where Dean is going. "Why are you bringing it up now?"

Dean shrugs. "You told me something last night."

Castiel tugs on their joined hands, shaking his head. "I don't want you to tell me because of that."

Dean's face softens then, reaching out to run a hand down Castiel's cheek. Castiel leans into it almost involuntarily, eyes half-closing at the comforting touch. "I'm not," Dean answers. "I want to tell you."

Castiel just nods shakily, hand moving up to keep Dean's against his cheek. "Okay."

"I'm gonna need my hand back, Cas."

"Oh." Castiel lets go, face burning. Dean immediately reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"Hey. It wasn't you, you need to know that. I needed it back because I can't show you everything with only one hand," Dean explains, pulling back and pressing their foreheads together. "Okay?"

He nods, feeling more than a little silly. He backs up so that Dean can tell him the story, crossing his legs. Dean reaches up and pulls off his shirt. The normal thing to do in this situation, Castiel thinks, is to be amazed. Because Dean has a wonderfully fit body, and Castiel would be drawn to the tan planes of his chest, if not for the twisting scar that runs along Dean's side. It starts right above his left nipple and runs down the side, curling around to his back and stopping near his hip. There are smaller scars all around it, light and hard to see.

He reaches out to touch it, glancing at Dean for permission. Dean nods stiffly, barely even looking at Castiel. His fingers stretch out and touch the rough skin, following the curve of the scar. Dean gives a quiet gasp when he first touches it, stomach concaving in. He pulls away, glancing worriedly up at him.

"Does it hurt?" Dean shakes his head, mouth pressed together, and Castiel reaches back to touch the smaller scars.

Dean starts speaking in a monotone, arms staying stiffly at his sides.

"It was a routine operation, just a simple extraction. There was a suspected bomber in a civilian areas, no special teams were called in. We just needed to apprehend the guy and keep the people safe." Dean's mouth twists in an expression of pain, and Castiel's hands leave the scars. "Obviously, it didn't work out that way."

Castiel tugs Dean's hands into his lap, rubbing them comfortingly. Dean stops speaking, biting his lower lip. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, leaning into Castiel.

"Me, my sergeant Benny, and a couple of other guys were instructed to go around one way and the rest of the boys went the other way. Benny lead everyone, and being second highest, I went last. There was this little family in one of the houses we went in, and we helped them get to safety.

"There were a couple of empty houses, and then we all converged on the last house. Door opened, and everything exploded." Dean's voice is shaking, and he sounds like someone scraped his throat with nails. "There were bodies everywhere, and my entire side felt like it had been torn off. The only reason I wasn't killed immediately was that I hung back with one of the greenies. He was having trouble with his helmet and I helped him out.

"I found out later that he'd died too." Dean's shoulders are trembling, and there are tears building in his eyes. Castiel wants to do anything to show him that it's okay, that he can break down, but he doesn't know how.

"I woke up in the hospital a week later, bandages all over my chest and legs. I felt numb - they'd had me on heavy painkillers for a while, and I didn't feel anything. Week after that I got shipped back home, trying to recover. And now..." he trails off, hands shaking. Castiel tugs him into a hug and Dean holds onto him tightly.  

"I'm so sorry, Dean," Castiel whispers. Dean shakes his head.

“Not your fault. You don’t need to apologize for anything, Cas.” Dean moves back to take Castiel’s face between his hands, pressing their foreheads together. “Especially not for that.”

Castiel reaches up and wraps his hands loosely around Dean’s wrists. They sit like that for a few moments, breaths mixing in the space between them. There’s almost absolute silence in the small cabin; a bird chirps outside, but neither of them move. It’s relaxing, just sitting together. Castiel waits for Dean to stop trembling before pressing a small kiss to his lips. Dean lets out a small sigh of relief, pushing into the kiss and pulling Castiel to him at the same time. For minutes it goes like this, kissing each other gently until Castiel finally pulls away from Dean’s grasp. His shirt is still off, and Castiel leans closer, bending until he’s at eye level with the worst of Dean’s scars.

He reaches a hand out, running a finger along the jagged shape of the scar, and Dean lets out a hitched gasp.

“Cas,” he breathes, “what’re you-” But he’s cut off when Castiel leans up to press another kiss to his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Just… let me.” Dean nods shakily, not breaking eye contact with Castiel until he finally moves back down, shifting his gaze to the scars once more. Emboldened by Dean’s completely vulnerable stare, he ducks his head and presses his lips against the scar, moving down the length of it and letting his tongue flick out. Dean’s hands move to Castiel’s head, fingers running slowly through his curls. He hand brushes against the scar, following the path his mouth makes.

Dean gasps when his mouth reaches the bottom of the largest scar. Turning his head to the side, Castiel peppers kisses along the silvery lines of the smaller scars that almost blend into his skin.

“They’re beautiful,’ he whispers fiercy, gazing up at Dean until he can see the doubt and pain fade from his eyes. He traces the line of the scar up and down, finally pulling away to mouth at the jut of Dean’s hipbone. Dean makes a choked-off sound and Castiel glances up in concern. The only warning he gets is a tight grip of fingers against his scalp before he’s being pulled up into a kiss. Dean’s arms clench around him desperately, and Castiel melts seamlessly into his body. His own hands push into Dean’s hair, tilting his head this way and that, breaking away from his lips to catch his breath.

“Cas,” Dean pants out, holding a hand over Castiel’s chest to keep them separated. “Slow down, this isn’t - we’re both -” Castiel nods when he doesn’t finish, understanding. Both of them had shared incredibly traumatic experiences, they weren’t in their right minds. He backs away, feeling a little flare of guilt and rejection in his chest. It must show on his face, because Dean pulls him back, this time into a hug.

“Don’t - I’m not rejecting you, Cas.” He brushes a hand down his back, muttering into his ear. “Trust me, I want to do this as much as you do. It’s just - it’s not the right time, okay?” Castiel nods, curling into him.They stretch out along the couch, Dean situating himself behind Castiel until he can press his chest to Castiel’s back. His arm wraps loosely around Castiel’s stomach, and his nose presses into his neck.

“Now, I want a nap. Care to join me?”

Castiel closes his eyes, feeling Dean’s warmth spread across wherever they’re touching. He smiles, snuggling back into him until he finally feels comfortable.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, pressed against Dean, not wishing to be anywhere else.

\--

Castiel takes a deep breath, gripping Dean's hand. His heart is pounding as he stares up at the house.

"Relax," Dean says, squeezing Castiel's hand. "They're gonna love you."

Castiel doesn't move. His eyes are locked on the house and his legs are frozen; he's never had the opportunity to 'meet the parents'. What if they hate him? What if they don't think Dean should be with him? What if they are incredibly rude and Castiel will have to deal with them if he wants to stay with Dean? What if -

There are soft lips on his and he stops thinking. It's a wonderful distraction, and Castiel almost melts into the kiss, feeling Dean's lips coax him into calming down. Dean pulls back slightly, stroking his hand along Castiel's arm.

"Chill out, Cas. There's nothing to worry about, I promise." Dean presses a chaste kiss to his cheek and tugs him along, going up to knock at the front door. He feels nauseous, and grips Dean's hand even tighter. He's trying to keep his breathing down, but his heart is racing. This might be his only opportunity to make Dean's parents accept him, and he's determined not to screw it up.

The door is answered by a middle-aged woman who looks older than her age. There are premature wrinkles around her eyes and forehead, and she looks tired, but she still smiles at the two of them. Her arms come up and pull Dean into a hug, grinning over his shoulder. Dean hugs back, and Castiel notices how he tucks his head into the woman's shoulder. Her eyes catch Castiel's and she pulls back, smiling over at him.

"You must be the young man Dean's been talking about nonstop."

"Cas, this is my mom," Dean says, pushing Castiel forward. He stumbles a bit, sticking out a shaky hand to grab hers. She smiles at him warmly, pulling him into a hug. He doesn't react at first, not used to the motherly feeling she exudes. It's been so long since his parents died; he hasn't been hugged this warmly since the last time he saw his own mother. Tears form in his eyes, unbidden, and his arms come up to wrap around her back as well.

He can feel her grin into her hair, and closes his eyes, relishing the feeling. She pulls back, still holding onto his arms, and laughs. "Please, Dean. You can call me Mary, Castiel. It's great to finally meet you."

She looks so much like Dean that it's almost scary; Castiel just nods, overwhelmed, and swallows thickly.

"You as well, Mrs. Winchester," Castiel responds, glancing over at where Dean stands, leaning against the stair railing. He has a soft smile on his face, and shakes his head fondly.

Mary swats Castiel, mock-scolding him. "I told you, Castiel. Call me Mary. I insist." She turns abruptly, without waiting for an answer, and beckons to Dean. "Let's not stand out in the heat all day. Come in, please. And Dean, make sure you and Castiel wash up before dinner. Your father will be home any minute now. Sam and Jessica are in the kitchen already."

Dean groans. "Mom, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Oh, sweetheart, you'll always be my baby," Mary says, reaching over to pat his cheeks and making teasing baby-noises at him. He squirms away and Castiel chokes back a chuckle at his expense. Dean scowls over at him, grabbing him harder than necessary. They follow Mary through the hallway and into the kitchen, where food covers every possible surface. It smells amazing, and Castiel takes a moment to let it all sink in.

Dean pulls him along with a hand in his around the island. Sam is standing there with a short blond girl, who Castiel assumes is Jess. Dean greets his brother with a noogie, pulling him down and holding him in a headlock. The girl just laughs at the two of them, at what Castiel believes is expected behavior, and reaches out a hand.

"You must be Castiel. I'm Jessica, but please, call me Jess." She has a lovely smile, and Castiel can see why Sam loves her. He's talked about her at the bakery a few times before, prompting Gabriel to tease him mercilessly.

"It's nice to meet you. Sam speaks very highly of you." Jess blushes at this, eyes sneaking over to where Sam has finally fought Dean off and seems to have won the upper hand. Castiel wonders if that's how he looks when he watches Dean.

The two stop wrestling and pull each other into rough hugs, before turning back to Castiel and Jess. Dean reaches forward and grabs Castiel's hand, dragging him off toward the bathroom. They wash their hands quickly, and if Dean shuts the door to press Castiel up against it and give him a few bruising kisses, no one is any the wiser.

They come out when they hear the front door open and a deep voice call out, "Sorry I'm late, Mary, Bobby held me up at the shop!" Castiel follows Dean back into the kitchen, where a gruff man is busy sliding out of his leather jacket. Dean greets his father with a pat on his shoulder, before pulling him into a one-armed hug. He steps back, slinging an arm around Castiel's shoulders, and nods his head toward the larger man.

"Cas, this is my dad. Dad, Cas." Dean sounds hopeful, and a little apprehensive, hand resting on his arm. Castiel steps forward and sticks a hand out, smiling nervously up at Dean's father. He grunts, eyeing Castiel up and down, before grabbing his hand in a crushing shake.

"Nice to meet you," he says, voice deep. "Call me John. Good to see that Dean's finally gotten to dragging you over to meet the family, Castiel."

Dean just rolls his eyes at his father good-naturedly, perking up when Mary calls them all to the table for dinner. Castiel sits next to Dean on one side of the table, with the two parents at each end. Food is served, and he waits patiently for grace to be said before he dives in. When no one says anything, he glances confusedly over at Dean, who's attempting to shove half a steak in his mouth.

He decides to think a quick prayer in his head before cutting his meat, almost groaning in delight at the first bite. "Ma'am, this is wonderful," he says, gazing reverently at the plate before him. Dean had loaded it up with all of his favorites, and if they're anywhere close to as good as the steak, Castiel will devour everything. Mary beams back at him from the compliment, and even Dean shoots him a proud look. The table is quiet as everyone digs in, appreciative comments coming from all sides of the table. Mary is blushing at the head of the table, although Castiel assumes she must be used to receiving such accolades for her cooking. There's simply no way for anyone to dislike it.

Once everyone has finished the first round, the slightly awkward air has disappeared. Everyone is relaxing in their chairs, fallen prey to the soporific effect of the huge meal. Mary is the first to rise, tapping Dean on the shoulder as she scoots by him. The room isn't very big, and Castiel leans as far forward as he can to make space for the two of them to move by his chair. They disappear into the kitchen, closing the door behind them. It's just him, Sam, Jess, and John left in the room; the awkward air is back, and he searches desperately for something to break the ice. He's saved by John coughing, leaning forward on the table and fixing Castiel with a stern stare.

"Now, Castiel, I promised Dean I wouldn't make you feel uncomfortable or interrogate you. But, as a father, I gotta warn you. If you hurt my boy, I have a shotgun. And it's loaded and ready," John says gruffly, face betraying no sign of teasing. Castiel just nods emphatically, trying his best not to break eye contact. "Just so we're on the same page - I won't have the shotgun. Mary will."

Castiel shivers. "Understood. But, sir, I have no intention of hurting Dean. I truly care about him, and I can't see this ending anytime soon. Just so we're on the same page."

He's surprised when John laughs, deeply and with genuine humor. It's obvious from his raspy laugh that he's either been addicted to cigarettes in his life or he's a heavy drinker. He resolves to not ask Dean, unwilling to stir up what could be unhappy memories. If Dean thought it important, he would tell him.

"You got spirit, kid. I think Dean's got his hands full with you. And that's good for him." Castiel acknowledges the backhanded compliment with a nod of his head, feeling a huge weight lift off of his shoulders. Across the table, Sam is giving him a subtle thumbs up, and even Jess is smiling approvingly at him. Castiel grins back, relieved that he hasn't completely thrown away his chance at being with Dean. Mary seemed to like him well enough earlier, and even John had given him a stamp of approval. All his fears had been assuaged, and he turns toward the door just as Dean and Mary stumble in.

They're balancing three pies each, one resting comfortably on Dean's head, and he can't help but chuckle at the sight. He reaches up and grabs the tin of pie, setting it down in the center of the table. Dean and Mary divest themselves of the rest, collapsing into their chairs with identical sigh's.

Dean leans over and pecks Castiel's cheek, hand resting on his thigh. Castiel tangles their fingers together, smiling down at their intertwined hands. He looks at Dean  when he feels another kiss pressed to his temple, eyebrow raised.

"What was that for?" he asks, stroking his thumb along Dean's palm. Dean shrugs and smiles, leaning his forehead into Castiel's.

"I heard what you said to my dad." His voice is low, whispering it into Castiel's ear. "Thanks." He squeezes Castiel's hand before leaning back into his chair. They keep their hands together, each trying to awkwardly eat with only one hand. He blushes at Mary's knowing look, ducking his head while Dean runs their joined hands comfortingly along his thigh.

Castiel volunteers to help clean the dishes with Mary and Jess after dinner, offering to put the plates away. The women chat idly while he dries the plates, gossiping about the new neighbors who apparently have strange habits. He doesn't pay much attention, letting the chatter fade to a soft buzz. He can hear Dean's laugh from the front room, and smiles to himself.

"So, Castiel," Mary says, handing over the last glance and nodding at Jess. She takes the hint and slides out of the kitchen, heading toward the front room. Castiel straightens up, glancing at Mary warily. She doesn't look like she's joking, and he puts the last plate away quickly, nerves jacking up. "Dean tells me that you're not in school anymore."

"No, ma'am. I dropped out last year and went to work for my brother in his café."

"I don't mean to pry, but was there any reason you dropped out?" Mary looks genuinely curious, a pleasant break from the disapproving looks he normally receives. He still freezes at the question, unsure of how to respond. Dean had only heard part of the story a few nights ago, and Castiel wasn't sure that he was ready to tell Mary, however sweet and concerned she might be.

"There were some... extenuating circumstances that affected my educational capabilities," he says dully, repeating the same story he's told since the night of the fire. Scratching absently at the scar on his neck, he stares straight down, still hearing the crackling of the fire in his head. Regardless of what he told Dean, he isn't okay a year later, and it must be motherly intuition because the next thing he knows, he's been pulled into a hug.

Mary rubs his back and he can't do much but wrap his arms around her, trying not to fall apart. She understands, and it's strange to not have someone push, but she just stops asking, whispering comforting words into his ear. He pulls away after a minute, scrubbing at his eyes and sniffing.

"Sorry," he says, raspy; Mary just smiles at him, and turns him around forcefully. Her voice is brisk when she answers, tone brokering no argument.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Castiel. Now go, get in there, and spend some time with Dean. I can handle the rest of the kitchen." She pushes at the small of his back to get him moving, and Castiel turns his head just enough to give her a grateful smile. She nods, motioning to the front room with a stern look on her face, but her eyes are fond.

"And Castiel," she calls after him, leaning against a counter. "You're welcome here anytime, with or without Dean."

Castiel nods, small smile forming on his face. Another explosion of laughter comes from the front room, and Mary nods toward the hallway for him to get a move on.

"Thank you, Mary." He heads into the other room, intending to sit, when there's a loud horn beeping from outside. Gabriel had promised to come pick him up before leaving on his date with Kali, and from the buzzing in Castiel's pocket, he assumes it's his brother. Dean notices and jumps up, following Castiel to the door.

Almost as an afterthought he turns back to John, quickly saying "It was nice to meet you, sir." He waves goodbye to Sam and Jess, knowing that Gabriel will get annoyed if he keeps him waiting. Gabriel is impatient, and Castiel doesn't doubt that he would leave him there.

Dean comes with him to the door, leaning against the wall while Castiel puts his shoes on. He looks dejected, and Castiel stands up to ask why. Dean shrugs, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"Gonna miss you," he mumbles, so quiet that Castiel isn't sure he heard right. He pulls Dean into a tight hug, hands gripping the back of his jacket.

"You too."

"Come to my apartment on Tuesday. I'll cook for you."

"As long as it isn't army food," Castiel says, grinning. Dean laughs too, hand coming up to rest self-consciously on the back of his neck.

"No, I'm actually an awesome chef."

"It's a date, then."

Castiel leans in to kiss Dean, lingering a little longer than he'd planned. At the honk of another horn he jumps, pulling away from Dean with a small smile, nodding toward the door.

"See you Tuesday?" Dean calls after him once he's left, leaning against the side of the door.

"Definitely!" Castiel yells back, quickly getting into Gabriel's obnoxiously loud car and tuning out all the jokes he knows are about to come.

\--

"Mary! That's my name!" Mary squeals, winding her arms around Castiel's neck. He chuckles, pulling her into his lap.

"That was your grandmother. She was a wonderful woman. She died only a few years before you were born." Castiel smiles sadly, remembering. Mary had fought off the breast cancer, but a remission had taken all of her remaining strength.

"You look like her, actually," Castiel remarks. It hadn't been his realization but Missouri's, who took one look at Mary and deemed her the spitting image of her grandmother. He'd pretended not to notice Sam's eyes glistening, even though his heart felt heavy too.

"Now, shush. Robert, you'll love this part."

\--

Castiel tugs at the straps under his arms, trying to loosen them. The vest is itchy. He adjusts the gun over his shoulder; the butt of it hits him in the back of the head and he lets out a startled grunt. The sound of gunshots comes from the field over and he just rubs at the back of his head, glaring irritably at the ground. He starts tugging at the straps again.

Dean finally comes back over from where he’d been talking to in owners, raising an eyebrow at Castiel’s frown. He plops down next to Cas in a sprawl, nudging him with his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t understand this gear and it’s uncomfortable,” he complains, folding his arms over his knees. Dean wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Castiel leans into his side. “And why do people come out here and shoot others for fun?”

Dean shrugs. “Well, first off, it’s paint. Hurts like a bitch, but it doesn’t really injure you,” he explains, voice low. “Second off, it’s a stress-reliever.”

On cue, a group of about 10 guys come out of the arena, clapping each other on the back; they’re all sporting wide grins, and wave at Castiel and Dean good naturedly. “The arena is great!”one of them calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Killer hiding spots for sniping!”

Dean nods his head at them, matching their grins. But Castiel doesn’t smile back, just tilts his head and glances toward the arena with apprehension. He’s never shot a gun before in his life; when Dean had suggested they play paintball together, he’d just agreed so they could spend more time together. He didn’t regret it, exactly, he just… felt inadequate.

“Dean, I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Hey, it’s cool, man. I’ll teach you. There’s a practice shooting range over there.” Dean tugs on Castiel’s coat and he follows reluctantly, swinging the gun over his shoulder. He grumbles all the way to the shooting range, enough that Deans leans over and kisses him just to shut him up. Castiel can’t help melting into the kiss, forgetting about the gun strapped to his back. They kiss for a few seconds before Castiel remembers where they are and pulls back sheepishly. He glances around furtively, expecting to see some glares. No one is looking their way, which he’ll take as a good thing. He turns back to Dean, who has an infectious grin on his face. Castiel can’t help but smile back, feeling the corners of his mouth tug up.  

“Here.” Dean tosses a pair of gloves at Castiel, slipping some on himself. Castiel examines them - there is a bumpy front that he assumes is for grip, and the gloves cut off above his knuckles, leaving his fingers free. He follows Dean to a small window; theres a target at the end of the small field in front of it. “Watch me first.” Dean leans forward over the gun, resting it on the table in front of the window. Castiel watches while he checks through the scope, before firing off four quick shots. They all splatter against the center of the target, and Dean pulls away with a satisfied smirk.

“Your turn.” Dean hands the gun over to Castiel, giving him a confident grin. Nervously, he props the gun up much like he had seen Dean do, bending down to peer through the scope. He squeezes the trigger four times, and the paintballs shoot out. Dean gives a low whistle from behind him and Castiel peeks around the scope.

“How did I do?” he asks, glancing up at Dean. He can’t really tell his from Dean’s, but from the shocked look on Dean’s face he assumes he did alright.

“You’ve never shot before?” Dean asks, eyes not leaving the practice target. Castiel nods, murmuring a quiet agreement. “Dude, you hit center on all four. That’s better than I can do. Damn.” He grins over at Castiel, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

A bell rings, signaling the start of the next match. Castiel frowns up at the tower, squinting his eyes against the light. The doors in front of him and Dean squeak, and he quickly readjusts his gear before stepping through. The door leads into a small room with roughly 10 other guys in there, all dressed in the same gear. Some have face paint on, small black streaks under their eyes. Dean greets a couple of them with one-armed hugs, making small-talk. His hand snakes its way through Castiel’s, causing tingles to run up his arm and his cheeks to turn a light red. None of the other guys seem to care, although Castiel notices a few looks thrown their way. There’s nothing hostile in their faces or stances, and Castiel lets himself relax.

The other guys and Dean switch to talking about strategic maneuvers almost on a dime, and he lets his mind wander, content to let the rest of them figure it out. He’ll only end up listening to Dean anyway.

Another bell tolls and the guys all shoulder their guns, trading cocky smiles around the circle. Castiel, for his part, manages a shaky grin at Dean before the doors on the opposite end of the room creak open. Sunlight streams through the cracks, and he is blinded for a split second before there’s a sharp tug on his arm, and he finds himself following Dean’s back until they both duck under a makeshift bunker.

“What’s going on?” Castiel asks, glancing quickly over the barrier. He ducks down when a paintball goes whizzing over his head, staying crouched beside Dean.

“We’re playing paintball,” Dean says, grinning madly. There’s a wild light of excitement in his eyes, and Castiel can see his fingers tightening on the butt of them gun like he can’t wait to be in the fray. He leans up to press a quick kiss to Castiel’s cheek, a little awkward with the helmets getting in the way. “You’re going to go up there-” he cuts off to point at what seems to be a watchtower behind them, with a single window in the side. From there, Castiel will be able to see the entire field and pick off the enemy one by one. “And make hell rain on these sons-of-bitches.”

Castiel nodded, shifting his feet until he’s sure he’ll be able to push off and immediately dash to the watchtower. “What if someone’s there already?” he asks, eyes flicking back to Dean’s face. Dean just grins.

“Shoot them first. They’re out of the game.” Dean hops over the bunker wall and ducks behind a pillar, calling out a confident “You’ll do great!” over his shoulder before heading into the fray with the gun at his shoulder. Castiel gulps, not as sure, before running to the watchtower. Halfway there, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and ducks, instinctively rolling across the ground and behind a stack of tires. He cocks his gun and peeks out for a split second, enough to fire a shot at the other guy. There’s a sharp shout of surprise, and when Castiel glances over, a big splat of paint is resting on the man’s helmet.

“Headshot, Red Team!” An announcer’s voice booms around the stadium, and Castiel gives the man an apologetic grin before hurrying to the watchtower. Thankfully, it’s empty, and he sets up his gun so it rests easily on the ledge. He can clearly see everything from up here, and immediately pinpoints Dean’s location. The other team is wearing red camouflage to their blue, and it stands out against the sandy floor. It’s easy enough for him to pick out the enemy fighters and take them out, making sure to aim for their chest or helmet. As Dean had explained, he needed to make a lethal hit.

Eventually the last one goes down, swearing profusely, and Castiel straightens up with a grin. He pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his sweaty hair, heading down the stairs of the watchtower. Out of the 15 guys on the other team, Castiel thinks he had taken out 6 of them. He pushes open the door and is greeted by his team, cheering and clapping for him. The other team is there too, congratulating him on his great shooting, but Castiel is only looking for Dean.

It doesn’t take him long to find him. Dean shoulders his way through the crowd, helmet tossed away a long time ago, and rushes at him. He wraps him up in a tight hug, almost lifting Castiel off his feet with the strength of it. Castiel hugs him back, pressing the side of his head into Dean’s. He can hear Dean laughing into his ear, exhilarated and happy and proud.

Eventually they break apart, and every emotion on Dean’s face radiates pride and love. Castiel feels himself blush, before Dean’s tugging on his hands and pulling them both out of the arena. The entire way to the car Dean is gushing to anyone who will listen about how great Castiel is, and he can’t help the warm glow spreading through his chest at Dean’s praise. He tries to get Dean to lay off, half-heartedly, because he loves the feeling. Dean refuses to stop, only growing quiet when they near the car, away from the other guys.

“Hey,” he says, pulling Castiel to himself. There’s a peculiar look on his face, a strange mix of confused and elated, and his eyes are warm. “I love you.”

Castiel’s brain stops working for a second, because it was the first time Dean had really said it, and scrambles to speak up. Dean, however, starts rambling, cheeks flushing as he tries to backtrack.

“I mean, you don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you because you did great today and I haven’t been that proud of anyone since Sammy got accepted to college and -” Castiel cuts him off with a soft kiss, hands curving around Dean’s cheeks. Dean’s hands find their way to his waist and Castiel grins into his mouth.

“Dean,” he says, pulling back and resting their foreheads together, “of course I love you too.”

Dean lets out a surprised laugh, moving his hands up until they rest around Castiel’s neck. He presses another kiss to Castiel’s lips, thumbs stroking along Castiel’s cheekbones. “Good.”

Castiel just kisses him again.

\--

“And here we are,” Dean says, pushing the door open. He gestures Castiel inside before locking it behind them, tossing the key into a bowl near the door. He flips the light on, striding down the narrow hallway to get to the kitchen. Castiel waits in the entranceway for a moment, carefully hanging up his coat next to Dean’s military jacket. The hallway is dimly lit, but pictures of Dean and his family hang everywhere. He smiles at a young Dean laughing from atop his mother’s lap, before his eyes move to a picture of John picking Dean up and swinging him around. A case of trophies sits by the cabinet at the end of the hallway. Half of them are Dean’s and half are Sam’s - old soccer trophies, medals from elementary school that look dusty… little facets of Dean’s life as a child. Castiel wants to stay there and examine each one, listen to Dean tell him the stories behind each and every one; instead, he straightens up, resolving to save that for another time.

“Home sweet apartment,” Dean says, bending over to grab something out of the fridge. Castiel follows him into the kitchen, watching curiously as Dean starts throwing a mass of vegetables into a pot. They sizzle as soon as they hit the bottom, sending splashes of oil onto the counter.

"What are you making?" Castiel asks, sitting at the table and resting his head on his hands. Dean keeps moving about the kitchen, adding things to the pot as he goes. In almost no time at all the kitchen smells heavenly, and Castiel grins while he watches Dean cook.

"Shish kebab," he answers, not even pausing in his movements. He adds something to the pot, before dumping in a cup of sauce that he had pulled from the fridge. Steam rises from the pot, and Dean pulls away with a curse. "And something special for dessert."

Castiel watches on amusedly, letting his mind wander while Dean putters about the kitchen. It feels oddly domestic, them sitting around and cooking, alone in an apartment. The feeling isn't bad, either - just strange. But Castiel can't imagine his life now without it, without spending almost all of his free time with Dean. He doesn't feel himself doze off, but the next thing he hears is Dean humming in his ear.

"C'mon, Sleeping Beauty, food's up." Dean grins over at him, smacking his ass before dropping a plate right where his arm had been seconds ago. Castiel blinks up at him, face flushing. He can't believe he'd fallen asleep while Dean cooked him dinner - he ducks his head, mortified. Dean just starts laughing, and Castiel smiles sheepishly up at him.

"I'm so sorry, Dean, I'm not sure why-"

"Hey, man," Dean cuts him off, letting a  hand rest around Castiel's waist while he leaned against the chair. "It's okay, really. I believe you."

Castiel smiles more openly now, reassured. He strands you, following Dean to the stove. There are a couple kebab sticks already on the cutting board, and Castiel grabs two to make the kebab. Dean grilled up steak sometime before Castiel woke up, and the roasted vegetables looks delicious. He adds a generous helping of rice to the dish, heading back to the table. Dean follows not too long after, sitting across from him.

Castiel takes a bite of the meat, eyes fluttering shut at the taste. "Dean," he says, almost moaning. "This is amazing." Dean shifts in his seat, averting his eyes from Castiel. He blushes.

"Thanks. Mom taught me almost everything I know." Castiel tries a vegetable, sautéed to perfection. He can't help but dig in, determined to finish quickly so he can go back and eat some more. Eventually, he slows down, taking his time so that he can fully enjoy the meal.  Dean isn't eating as much, and it takes a while for Castiel to realize that instead he's watching him.

"What?" he asks, suddenly self-conscious, but Dean just grins softly and shakes his head.

"Nothin'," Dean says, eyes not leaving Castiel's face. "Just... nothing." He ducks his head and starts eating again, grin not leaving his face. Castiel cocks his head, looking across at him in confusion. Dean doesn't look up and doesn't answer further, leaving Castiel to wonder what he meant. He looks back down, continuing to eat and brooding over what Dean would have said.

The table is small, and Castiel accidentally brushes his knee along Dean's. He glances up to see Dean looking back at him, surprise in his eyes.

"Sorry," Castiel says quietly, unable to look away. Heat starts to bloom in his abdomen when Dean's eyes flick to his lips, focusing on a spot just to the left of them. "What?"

Dean gestures to the corner of his lip. "You've got a - hold on." He stands up, goin around the table until he's kneeling in front of Castiel. "You've got some vegetable... right... here." His finger brushes against Castiel's lips, before pulling back and flicking something to the ground. He doesn't move, hands resting on Castiel's thighs, and Castiel realizes the situation almost immediately. Dean's eyes are heated, and when he leans up to press a kiss to Castiel's lips, his hand travels up Castiel's leg.

"Dean," he gasps around the kiss, hands making their way through Dean's hair. He'd cut it recently, and Castiel struggles to find a good grip. Dean smiles into his mouth, hands coming up to rest on his hips. He groans, hands finding Dean's on his hips, and interlaces their fingers together.

They kiss for while, until Dean pulls away, gasping out a choked "Bedroom," and tugging Castiel up from the chair. They stop in the hallway so Dean can press him against the wall and rock their hips together. He throws his head back into the wall, ignoring the flash of pain and focusing on Dean's lips ravaging his neck. The blood rushes down to his cock, and he groans.

"Dean," he almost growls, tugging at Dean's hair. "Move." Dean grabs Castiel and picks him up, pressing their lips together, before walking to the bedroom. He drops Castiel on the bed and immediately climbs over him, pressing him into the bed. Castiel's hands roam over his back, stroking down the length of his spinal chord, before pushing him away.

"Clothes off. Now." Dean obeys without saying anything, pupils dilated so much that there's only a small trace of green ringing around the edges. He stands, slowly unzipping his heans. He pulls off his pants and Castiel does the same, sitting up and tugging at Dean's shirt until the buttons snap away and he can tug it off. Dean makes quick work of his own shirt, leaving it half on so Castiel's wrists are trapped behind his back. They fall back on to the bed in nothing but their boxers, and Dean ruts against him.

Castiel wants to reach down and stroke Dean, but his hands are pressed down under his back. He's sure it wasn't an accident, and doesn't fight it's. Dean presses kisses down his neck, stopping to kick at each nipple until they're hard. He kisses down Castiel's stomach, and Castiel's stomach contracts under his ministrations. Soon he reaches Castiel's boxers, pressing a wet kiss to his cock through the cloth.

Castiel bucks, and Dean's hands press down on his hips. He gasps out a muttered curse and Dean continues licking at his cock through the boxers, and outright keens when the boxers are pulled away and he feels a warm tongue press against his cock. Dean runs his tongue along Castiel's slit and down the shaft, pausing for a moment to suck at the base of his cock. He pulls back, lips red and swollen, and swallows Castiel down.

He can't help moaning Dean's name, hands still pinned behind his back. Dean's hand trails along his side, reaching up to push two fingers into Castiel's mouth. He sucks at them with abandon, trembling when Dean groans around his cock. Dean pulls them out, before trailing them down his chest and cock until he's pressing on the sensitive spot between his cock and his hole. His sees spots, head thrown back, and absolutely loses it when Dean's finger presses in. With a deep groan, he's coming in Dean's mouth, and Dean doesn't move until he's completely spent, lying boneless on the bed.

Dean's two fingers are still inside him, and Castiel comes back down to the pleasant feeling of being stretched. Another finger presses against his hole and he gasps, pain blooming from where Dean is pushing it inside.

"Gonna fuck you," Dean says, side of his head resting against Castiel's thigh. Castiel can't respond, breath coming in short gasps as he feels his cock begin to harden again. It's like he's a horny teenager all overs against, as Deann continues to push him to the brink.

"Do it then," he eventually whispers, unable to muster up anything stronger than that. Dean just smirks from where he's resting between his legs, before telling Castiel to turn over. He obeys, finally pulling his hands out of the shirt to fist them in the bedsheets. Dean presses kisses along his spine, and then his cock is nudging up against Castiel's entrance, pushing in torturously slow. He gasps, arching his back, and Dean slides further in.

Castiel rocks his hips back onto Dean, gasping out a broken "Move," and Dean breathes his agreement into Castiel's shoulder blade, pulling out and pressing back in. They establish a rhythm, Castiel pushing back onto him while Dean rocks forward.

"Cas, Castiel, Cas," Dean's muttering his name like a litany, hands gripping Castiel's hips tight enough to bruise. Castiel would be doing the same, but he can feel the edge of orgasm and his only coherent thought is 'more, more, more'.

Dean's hips stutter, brushing against Castiel's prostate, and he almost screams, pleasure blinding him. Dean's hitting it relentlessly now, and it only takes a couple more thrusts before Castiel is coming again, rocking against Dean and toes curling into the sheets. Dean follows him not too long after, pressing even deeper than Castiel thought he could.

After, they collapse onto the bed, sweat coating their bodies. Dean rolls off Castiel and gets up to grab a towel. He comes back and wipes up their come, tossing the towel into a basket in the corner. Castiel grins softly when Dean falls into bed next to him, curling up against his chest.

Their plates lay unfinished in the kitchen, but Castiel doesn't spare them a thought, falling asleep with his head on Dean's chest.

\--

Things go well for a few weeks - after the dinner in Dean's apartment, they started spending more time together. Castiel was half moved in - he had a toothbrush at the apartment, and an extra duffel of his clothes. Dean cooked for him a lot; amazing dishes that Castiel knew he had learned from Mary. Whenever he didn't work he would stay over, waking up with Dean curled around him like an overgrown octopus. Not that Castiel was complaining, of course.

Many lazy fall mornings are spent like that - Castiel doesn't ever want to leave the warmth of the bed, snuggling closer to Dean. He sleeps like the dead, and Castiel learns that one of the best ways to wake him up is to slowly pepper kisses around his stomach, moving down slowly. Dean always wakes quickly, groaning and gripping Castiel's hair tightly.

On this particular morning they're both hard, Dean's hips pushing insistently up from the bed. Castiel smirks and licks a stripe up his cock, before sucking him down. Dean's hands twist, pushing him farther down. His tongue swirls around the head and Dean gives a choked-off groan. Castiel hums around his cock, making Dean's hips buck off the bed. He holds them down with a hand and grins, thumbs digging into the little crevices near Dean's groin. His finger drift lower, caressing Dean's balls and he arcs off the bed, coming with a groan. Castiel pulls back and watches as his come splatters onto his stomach and chest.

Dean groans and tugs Castiel down, hand wrapping around his cock. Their lips meet and Castiel gasps, tongue pushing into Dean's mouth as Dean increases his speed. A few short strokes later and Castiel's hips stutter into his orgasm, trembling over Dean as it rips through him, finally collapsing on top of Dean with a heavy sigh.

"Good morning to you too," Dean says, running a tired hand through his hair. He pulls Castiel into a soft kiss, both of them ignoring the stickiness between their stomachs.

Castiel responds with a huff of breath, drawing away from the kiss. "We need to get up," he says, grabbing a towel from the side table. He starts to clean Dean and himself off, methodically wiping the come off of their chests. The towel gets tossed into the hamper and Castiel gets up, crawling off of Dean and slipping on a pair of boxers.

\--

Castiel blushes, not planning to share that part with the kids. That's much too personal, and not to mention inappropriate. He glosses over it, hoping the kids don't notice his red cheeks. This long after it and he still reacts like a teenaged boy, hormones skyrocketing into the clouds. The fact that Mary and Robert are sitting just next to him is enough to deter the effect of the memories; he doggedly carries on, starting to talk about the bakery again.

\--

A few days after, Dean doesn’t come in. Castiel doesn’t think much of it at first - he knows Dean is busy over at the garage and, as awesome as Bobby is, Dean can’t go against his direct order to stay back and help if they’re swamped. So instead of worrying, he smiles at customers and lets it slip from his mind. He’s planning on going to Dean’s apartment that night anyway - its not like they won’t see each other.

When Sam comes in around noon with bags under his eyes and a drained smile, Castiel starts to worry. He isn’t sure whether to ask Sam about it or leave it be. Sam is more subdued than normal, deflecting questions like a pro and avoiding any mention of Dean or his family. Instead of asking, Castiel sends a quick text off to Dean.

Are you alright?

He leaves his phone sitting on the shelf under the register, resting his knee subtly against the wood so he’ll feel if it vibrates. Minutes pass without a response, and Castiel tries to stop from glancing down at it repeatedly. His eyes flick to the couple every few seconds, fingers tapping nervously on the counter.

When it finally does vibrate, Castiel is with a customer, and it’s all he can do to help them before grabbing desperately at his phone. He flips it open and stares at the single line of text.

M’fine, Bobby has me working overtime

Castiel lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking up in relief.

I was worried. Sam seemed off today. I’m glad you’re alright.

This time the response is instantaneous, and Castiel frowns down at the response.

It’s just some family shit. no big deal

Oh. Is everything okay?

It’s fine, Cas let it go

Dean, you can tell me what’s wrong.

Dammit cas just let it go. its between sam and me okay

Fine.

-

Castiel doesn’t go to Dean’s apartment that night, instead laying in bed with his phone resting on his chest. Gabriel was out with Kali again, and he’d told Castiel not to wait up. So he was thinking.

His phone rang and he pulled it over so he could see who it was. The caller ID was flashing Dean. Dean. Castiel flipped it open, biting his cheek.

“Hello?”

“Cas? Where are you? I thought you were coming over tonight.” Castiel sits up, leaning back against the headboard. He wraps his arms around his legs as he listens to Dean, trying to figure out how to respond.

“I didn’t want to come over,” he says, leaving it at that. Dean’s quiet for a moment, and Castiel closes his eyes.

“Is this about this morning?”

Castiel doesn’t respond, pressing the phone closer to his ear.

“I’m sorry, Cas, there’s been a shitton of crap happening at home and I didn’t want to get you involved.”

“Maybe I wanted to be involved, Dean.”

“I don’t want you to worry. And don’t try to deny it, I know you would.” Dean sighs on the other end of the line. “I promise, I’ll tell you if it becomes more of a problem.”

Castiel considers it for a second, before capitulating with a soft grin. “Fine. And thank you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think you were gonna get this worked up about it. It’s not a big deal, honestly.”

Castiel frowns at Dean’s tone. It’s just cheery enough that he doesn’t believe it, but he trusts Dean to tell him if it gets any more serious.

“So, wanna come over still?” Dean sounds hopeful, and Castiel considers it for a minute.

“I’d love to.”

\--

The next day, Dean drives Castiel to work, promising to come back around 11:00. He has to work at the auto shop, but swears that he’ll convince Bobby to let him have a break. “Plus,” he explains, “Bobby owes me a half-day after I covered for someone yesterday.”

The time doesn’t pass quick enough in Castiel’s mind, and it feels like forever before Dean strides into the bakery.

"Hey, you," he says, leaning over the counter to kiss Castiel. Castiel sighs into the kiss openly; they haven't had anymore problems in the café since the two older men had walked out the first time Dean kissed him here. He pulls away when he hears the kitchen door open, turning to look sheepishly at an amused Gabriel.

"Oh no, don't stop on my account," he teases, grabbing a bowl of sugar from the counter and heading back into the kitchen. "Keep on going, boys, it's healthy for you!" He makes kissy faces at them both, before turning with a flourish and pushing through the doors. Castiel rolls his eyes and Dean chuckles, used to his brother's behavior.

"So, Cas," he says casually, still smiling. "I was thinking we could have a picnic later on, down by the lake?"

"I'd love that, Dean," Castiel replies. "I get off at 5 today. It's slow anyway, Gabriel won't miss me if I leave a little early."

He tosses the towel he's been folding into the back corner of the drawer, closing it with a gentle click. When he glances back up Dean is looking at him like again, like he's not sure what to do. Castiel just grins fondly at him, raising an eyebrow. "Like what you see?"

Dean blinks slowly, like he's being pulled out of a dream, and laughs softly, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Castiel's on the counter. "Yes," he says, looking Castiel up and down. "And you?"

"Eh," Castiel says, mock-blandly, pretending to check out Dean's body with disinterest. "You'll do, I suppose."

Dean just rolls his eyes, deadpanning a "Tell me how you really feel, babe."

Castiel scrunches up his nose at the nickname, prompting Dean to ask "What?"

"No pet names," Castiel says, shuddering a bit. "That was strange, I don't like it."

"What, calling you babe?" Dean says, teasing grin forming on his face. "Cmon, I'll even let you pick one for me."

"Calling you mine is good enough for me," he answers, looking fondly over the counter at Dean's quickly flushing face. He just chokes out a laugh, a startled and genuine sound that Castiel hasn't heard for a while. Dean's resulting grin is infectious as he leans in to kiss Castiel again, deepening it without regards to the customers. He blushes, hand finding Dean's over the counter and squeezing.

They break apart at a catcall from the kitchen; Castiel whips around and catches Gabriel smirking before ducking back into the kitchen. Sam's standing there as well, looking grossed out.

"Really, Dean?" he complains, face twisting into what Dean's describes as 'bitchface #47'. "I even have to see you kissing at work? Is there anywhere I'm safe?"

"Nope," Dean says, popping the word with a sly grin on his face. "Sorry Sammy, just gotta accept it."

Sam turns a pleading look on Castiel. "Cas?" he begs, eyes pulling into their puppy-dog look. "You wouldn't want to see Gabriel kissing anyone, help me out here!"

Castiel is silent for a moment, considering. In a flash, he pulls Dean to him in a quick kiss, feeling Dean smile against his lips.

Dean whoops, laughing as they pull away. "Yes! Cas is on my side!"

"You're lucky Charlie isn't here. She would have taken pictures," Castiel warns, dropping Dean's hand to help the customer at the other register. He catches brief snippets of Dean and Sam's conversation, something about their mother and the bills for the house. Castiel mainly tunes them out, focusing on the customer's order. He calls it back to Gabriel and gives the man his change, explaining that it will take a couple minutes.

The bell rings again and Castiel glances over, face brightening.

"Missouri!" he calls, knocking on the kitchen door to get Gabriel's attention. He comes around the counter with a wide grin and Missouri pulls him into a hug, kissing his cheek.

"How are you, sweetheart?" she asks, eyes glinting in a way that tells Castiel she already knows the answer. She doesn't wait for his response, instead turning toward Gabriel with her hands on her hips. "Come over here and give me a hug, boy." Gabriel moves to her with a laugh, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She pushes him away, eyes twinkling, and faces Sam and Dean. Both of them look confused, and Castiel can't help but laugh at the look on their faces.

"Missouri, this is Sam and Dean. Sam just started working for us and Dean -" Missouri cuts him off with a wave of her hand, already moving to wrap Dean in a hug.

"I know who this boy is," she huffs, pulling away and grabbing Dean's hands. "You're Mary's boys. Wonderful woman. We're old friends."

"Really?" Dean asks, surprised. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Give Mary my love," Missouri says, motioning for Sam to come around the counter so she could give him a hug.

Castiel tries not to laugh when they hug - Missouri barely comes up to Sam's chest, and he looks extremely uncomfortable. He glances to his right, catching Gabriel with a constrained expression on his face, hands pulled into a fist to stop himself from laughing. Dean has a smirk on his face, winking at Sam over her back.

"How do you know Mary?" Castiel asks, trying to change the subject. Missouri pulls back at the question, patting Sam on his cheek with a grin.

"I used to babysit her way back when. Your daddy was so nervous to ask her out, and Mary wasn't all too interested at first. I talked her into giving him a chance, and eventually they fell in love. She never knew how much they had in common."

"Wow," Dean says, trading glances with Sam. Castiel is grinning, moving to wrap an arm around his waist. Missouri gives them both a knowing glance, smiling slyly.

"You boys better get going on your date. Gabriel can do without Castiel for the rest of the day."

"Hey!" Gabriel says, folding his arms. "You can't just send my workers away." Missouri mimics his pose and adds in her famous glare; He backs down right away, telling Castiel that he can leave whenever.

Dean grins off to the side, hands in his pockets. "I just gotta run by my house, but then we'll head over to the lake." He waves goodbye to Missouri and Sam, pulling Castiel out the door with him.

"Dean, wait - what about Sam?" Castiel asks, stumbling after him.

"He'll find a ride, trust me. Anyway, Jess lives around here. Sam can have some fun." Dean waggles his eyebrows and Castiel pushes him away playfully.

"Gross, Dean."

They slide into the Impala and Dean tears down the road, whooping out the open window. He turns the music up to blasting and Castiel grins fondly. He hasn't seen Dean look this happy since the Fourth of July they spent at the lake. The wind blows through the car, ruffling Castiel's hair. He leans back against the seat and closes his eyes, content to just be near Dean.

The next thing he knows Dean is shaking his shoulder, grinning down at him. "C'mon, get up. It's only noon, you can go to bed later. We're on a date." Castiel grunts, rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself up.

He's exhausted but he's not sure why... Perhaps staying up and watching Star Trek hadn't been the best decision after all. He grabs Dean's hand and is summarily hauled out of the Impala, stumbling into Dean's arms. In a moment they're off, hands tangled together as they head toward the cabin.

Castiel notices Dean carrying a picnic basket, and squints down at it. "Dean," he asks. "Where did you get that?"

"Well, you were busy sleeping so I stopped at home and grabbed it. Mom wanted to say hi, but I told her you were asleep. Got some great pictures," Dean teases, knocking his shoulder against Castiel's. He grimaces, resolving to find Dean's phone and do whatever is necessary to get rid of those pictures.

Eventually they make it to the cabin, and Dean has to nearly kick the door in before it opens.

"Rained the other night," he explains. "Rusts the locks - Dad's too lazy to fix it, and I just don't want to." He winks at Castiel, smirking. "Plus, I get to kick a door in, so there's a benefit."

There's a dusty blanket in one of the cupboards; Castiel recognizes it as the one they used last time. Dean tosses it to him and he coughs violently, dust puffing up in his face. His eyes water as he yells after Dean's retreating back.

"Dean! That isn't funny!" He can hear Dean laughing down by the docks, and focuses on airing the blanket out before bringing it down for them to use. A couple more shakes and he deems the blanket clean - a very loose interpretation of the word, he thinks - and heads down the grassy area toward the dock.

Dean's leaning against the dock when Castiel gets there, sleeves rolled up. He looks so comfortable and casual, standing there and squinting against the sun. Castiel wants to kiss him.

So he does, pressing a kiss to Dean's lips. He tastes like sugar and coffee, and Castiel presses against him until they're both lying in the grass. He's overwhelmed by Dean, by the smell of him and the intoxicating taste of his lips. His hands come up to frame Dean's face, throwing a leg over his waist. Dean's hand frantically push at his shoulders, squirming under him.

He breaks away, breathing heavily as he gazes down at Dean. Dean's hands hold him back and Castiel frowns at him.

"Cas, Cas wait... Not that I'm against this, but the food will go bad if we leave it out too long. Raincheck?" Dean says, face flushed and breath coming in ragged bursts. Castiel reluctantly crawls off of him, promising a repeat with heated eyes. He lays in the grass for a few more minutes, and Castiel takes pride in knowing that it was him that caused Dean to feel so overwhelmed.

He busies himself with setting out the food on the blanket, amazed at how much Dean had packed for them. There's enough here for at least four people, even with Dean's tendency to eat double or triple his serving. Castiel pulls out paper plates and waits patiently for Dean to smile sheepishly and crawl over to the picnic blanket before he starts making a sandwich for himself. There's fruits hidden in around the basket, and he grabs an apple before resting comfortably on top of the blanket.

Dean packs his sandwich with more meat than Castiel would ever even plan to; the bread droops, and if Dean isn't careful he might lose the entire thing. It does look delicious, Castiel has to admit.

They finish off their sandwiches before Dean's grabbing a plate of fruit and moving to sit in front of Castiel. He straddles Castiel's legs before pushing back on his chest until Castiel is laying half upright on the blanket, supported by his arms.

"Close your eyes and open up," Dean says, voice deep. Castiel doesn't even think to disobey, shutting his eyes tight and opening his mouth. There's a cool pressure on his lips before something cold is being pressed to his tongue. Startled, Castiel pulls it in and takes a bite, tasting the juicy tang of a strawberry. He coughs, wiping at his mouth.

"Dean, I can feed myself," he says, looking confusedly up at Dean. "This isn't necessary."

Dean almost snorts, letting out a choked laugh. His head falls to Castiel's shoulder, chuckling. "Cas," he manages around his laughter, "it's supposed to be romantic."

Castiel pauses. "Oh."

Dean just grins at him, popping a blueberry into his own mouth. Castiel watches his Adam's apple bob, transfixed. He blinks when Dean snaps in front of his face, eyes darting up to meet his. Dean looks amused, and Castiel feels himself blushing.

"Sorry," he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Dean claps a hand on his shoulder, rubbing comfortably along the curve of it.

“No problem, man.” He slips off of Castiel’s legs and lies down, head in his lap. Castiel squints down at him, before reaching over to the pile of fruit. He carefully cuts the stem off of the strawberry, before pressing it to Dean’s lips. A thin stream of juice runs along the side, staining his fingers red. Dean glances up at him curiously before taking a bite of the strawberry. The juice drips down his cheek, and Castiel tosses the rest of the strawberry away before leaning down and kissing the juice off of Dean’s skin. A hand creeps through his hair and tugs, and Castiel follows the pressure until he meets Dean’s lips. They kiss like this for a moment until his back starts to hurt. He pulls Dean up until they face each other, hands carding through Dean’s hair.

Dean pulls away, breathing heavily. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, and Castiel can feel his own erection in his jeans. Dean glances up at him then, eyes dark with arousal, and Castiel feels his cock twitch.

Unable to wait, Castiel pulls Dean to him, crashing their lips together. In a second he is tugging at his coat and shirt, until Castiel is sitting there with just his shorts on, gasping. Their tongues are sliding slickly against each other, and Dean pulls away. His mouth travels down Castiel's jaw, sucking gently, before moving down to bite softly at his collarbone. Castiel groans, tangling his hands in Dean's hair and holding on. Dean's hand is traveling down his chest, pausing to brush gently across his nipples, before moving down his abdomen. He pushes Castiel down gently, before straddling his legs. Castiel moans, trying to push his hips up and get any sort of friction he can.

Dean's hand pauses at the zipper, tensing on Castiel's hip. "D'you - are you sure -" he gasps out, mouth still working at leaving a mark on Castiel's skin. He shivers at the feeling of Dean's teeth scraping against his neck, pulling Dean closer to him.

"Yes, yes, just hurry up," he breathes, head tilted back to give Dean better access. Dean's hand trembles, tugging down Castiel's zipper slowly. The sound is teasingly loud, and Castiel can feel himself hardening more in his shorts. Dean's hand brushes along his cock and his hips jerk forward, unable to hold himself back. Dean leans down and breathes hot and heavy against the shell of Castiel's earlobe, grazing it with his teeth.

"We can stop if you're don’t want to-"

"Dean, if you don't take my pants off in the next ten seconds, I will tell Gabriel that you used his favorite spoon to get your phone out from under the oven," Castiel threatens, hands clenching on Dean's hips. His tongue traces a path down Dean's throat and he feels the other man shiver, before leaning in to kiss around Dean's nipples.

"I can do that," Dean breathes, and really, he shouldn't be this coherent. Castiel decides to change that, licking across Dean's nipple and rolling the other one between his fingers. Dean's hand stutters, pushing Castiel's cock down through his pants. He lets out a gasp, hips jerking forward and seeking Dean's touch. Dean's tongue traces a path down Castiel's chest, stopping before he gets to where Castiel really wants him to be.

Finally Dean succeeds in pulling his shorts down, shoving a hand inside Castiel's boxers. Castiel bites down on his lip when Dean's hand grips his cock, stroking it slowly up and down. He throws his head back and tries not to lose control already. His fingers dig into the blanket, toes curling as he fights off his orgasm.

"Cas?" Dean's hand stills and he glances up at Cas, concerned. "You good?"

"Yes," Castiel grinds out, clenching his teeth to distract from the curl of pleasure in his abdomen. "It's just - a lot of sensation." He glares across at Dean. “I swear to God, Dean, if you let go right now I will throw you into Hell."

"Aw, Cas. Didn't know you cared." But Dean starts moving his hand again, twisting it just so to give it the right amount of pressure. His thumb swipes along the head and Castiel bucks, hips arching off of the ground. Dean is on them immediately, laying an arm across them to hold them down. His hand tightens, and Castiel can barely refrain from coming, riding the edge. Dean leans down, sticking out a tongue to lick at the base of his cock and Castiel loses it. The sensation is battering at his self-control, and with a choked-off cry he comes, hands flying up to tug at Dean's hair.

He's shaking when he comes down from the high, pulling at Dean's arms until he crawls up Castiel's body. He pushes up to press his lips to Dean's, hands carding through the back of his hair. Dean kisses him back, tongue tracing along his bottom lip until he rolls it between his teeth. Castiel's hands leave Dean's hair to trail down his chest, fingernails scraping over his stomach until he reaches the waistband of Deans shorts.

He dips his fingers underneath the elastic, pulling Dean's shorts down slowly. Acting on impulse, he flips them, kneeling down between Dean's legs while Dean props himself up on an elbow.

"Dammit, Cas, fucking do it already."

Castiel pulls Dean's boxers down enough to free his cock, twitching when the elastic is pulled over it. Dean gasps, holding his hands down over his head. He looks beautiful, spread out like this, and Castiel grips his cock tightly, beginning to stroke it up and down. He does the same thing Dean did, running his thumb along the head and waiting for Dean's reaction. Dean calls out a low "Fuck...", and Castiel begins to move faster.

Determined to make it good for Dean, he leans up and begins to suck at Dean's nipples, pulling at them gently with his teeth. He keeps running his hand along Dean's cock, and Dean's hips push up into Castiel's stomach. With his other hand Castiel reaches down and runs the pads of his fingers along Dean's balls. He feels them tighten and increases his speed, coaxing Dean through his orgasm.

"Dammit," Dean gasps out, come spilling across his chest and dribbling down the side of his cock. Castiel pulls his hand away, gazing interestedly at the come sticking to his hand.

"What now?" he asks, glancing down at Dean's sated body. Dean's answering chuckle sounds half disbelieving and half surprised.

"Jesus, Cas, give a guy a minute to enjoy the moment." Nonetheless Dean sits up, grabbing a corner of the blanket to wipe his and Castiel's come off of their chests. He tosses a napkin to Castiel and Castiel cleans off his hand, tossing the napkin down onto the already soiled blanket.

"Fuck, I'm cold," Dean mutters, casting about for his clothes. "Not that I don't love looking at you like this, but we should really get dressed before the locals come a-lookin'."

 

They get dressed slowly, and Castiel flushes when he feels Dean's gaze lingering on his groin and ass more than once. He glances over as payback, eyes zeroing in on Dean's chest, marked up with hickeys and fingernail scrapes. Almost wonderingly he reaches out and strokes a finger down the marks. Dean shivers, pausing in pulling his shirt over his head. Castiel leans back, embarrassed, and averts his gaze.

"Uh," he tries, not expecting Dean to start laughing. He glances up in confusion, watching as Dean holds onto the side of the dock while he gets his pants on. Castiel follows suit, eyes straying toward the scratch marks again. He feels like its wrong, somehow - but he doesn’t regret them. They’re a mark of what happened, of Castiel’s claim on Dean, and he wishes that they could stay forever. There are no shortage of scratches and hickeys on his own body, and Castiel presses a thumb into a dark bruise on his chest. It tingles when he touches it, bringing forward a sensation of excitement more than pain.

Dean finally pulls his shirt on, and Castiel drops his eyes as the marks are covered by a thin layer of cotton. He quickly does the same, helping Dean roll up the blanket once his shirt is on. They toss it into the trunk of the Impala, and Dean slams the door before pulling Castiel back to the dock. They sit on the grass this time instead, stars beginning to come out in the fading twilight. Dean pulls Castiel to him until they’re sitting back-to-chest, and Dean’s strong arms wrap around his stomach. His chin rests on Castiel’s shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

“Cas, I need to tell you something,” Dean says softly. His arms tighten around Castiel’s waist. “But, you can’t get mad at me, okay?”

“Dean, what-” Castiel starts, but Dean presses a kiss to his cheek, resting his forehead against his temple. Castiel turns to rest their foreheads together, watching as Dean’s face tightens.

“Promise,” Dean says.

“Of course, Dean, but-”

" Cas, I have to go back in seven months." Dean's eyes are wide and worried, staring desperately at Cas. His voice is wavering, and he reaches out to grab at Castiel's arm.

Castiel shifts away, feeling his breath come quicker. His thoughts are racing, and he tries to calm himself. He pulls back, twisting so he can face Dean. Dean's face is beginning to swim in front of him, and Castiel can feel tears slowly falling down his cheek. "What?" he whispers out, gaze falling on the dark green of Dean's military jacket.

More than anything, he wants to tear it off, and not in the sexual way either. If he's not wearing the jacket, he isn't in the military, and he won't have to leave Castiel. It makes sense to Castiel's panicking mind, and then there are two hands on his shoulders, steadying him.

"Cas. Focus on my voice. Breathe," a voice is urging him, and it sounds comforting, so he listens to it. He stops heaving breaths and begins to control himself, vision steadying as he breathes in and out. Dean's worried face stares back at him, and a hand wipes the wet trails from his cheeks. "Cas?"

Castiel tries to speak, but his voice comes out hoarse. "When," he clears his throat quietly, eyes finally focusing on Dean's face. "When do you go back?"

"Seven months."

Castiel nods, hands gripping onto Dean's military jacket. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asks, voice quiet. He doesn't miss the way Dean's hands tighten on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I should've told you, I know I should have, and I wish I had. But we were having fun, and I didn't want to ruin that." Dean sounds frustrated, and Castiel feels he can relate. The panic seems to have gone, and he can breathe normally again. He's still locking away some part of his brain that is screaming, that is terrified that Dean is going to go away and never return.

He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a desperate gasp, and then his hands are clutching at Dean's shoulders, burying his head into his neck. Dean's arms come up around his waist, tugging him in closer. They stay like this for what feels like forever, just holding onto each other in the dimming twilight.

It feels like an eternity before Castiel's tears dry up and he can speak again.

"Why -" he rasps out, throat scratchy. He swallows heavily, barely able to get the words out. "Why did you re-enlist?"

His voice is soft, barely even audible, but Dean's shoulders tense. He doesn't move for a moment, arms tightening around Castiel. For a moment, the only sound is the waves gently lapping at the shore, and then Dean starts speaking hesitantly.

"Cas... Cas, you know it's not because of you, right? If I had any other option, I would take it, because -" Dean sounds tortured, and Castiel can feel the dampness of tears against his neck. "I don't want to lose you, I don't want to go back into the field, but I don't have a choice!" There's not anger in his voice, but hopelessness, desperation, and Castiel can do nothing but hold on as Dean falls apart in his arms.

"Mom has cancer." Dean's voice is rough, and Castiel feels him swallow heavily. "I didn't know what else to do, Dad can't pay her medical bills, and none of us make enough money to help out. I could've asked Bobby or Ellen, but Dad wouldn't accept the charity. And we've asked enough of them." He shivers, curling closer into Castiel.

"Did your dad-"  Dean cuts him off almost before he can begin his thought, shaking his head vigorously.

"My dad tried to discourage me from doing this. He didn't force me into anything. I chose this, so don't accuse him. He's tried to talk me out of this already, and I won't let him. Mom and Sam don't know yet, and dad only found out by accident." Dean's arms hesitatingly move up Castiel's back until they're draped around his shoulders, pulling them closer together. His voice is thick from the unshed tears, and Castiel is speechless.

"Dean, I could have helped you if you'd asked." And again Dean is shaking his head before he can finish, frowning.

"I can't ask that of you, Cas."

"Why not? I love you, I would do anything to stop you from going back into the military!" Castiel yells, desperate and desolate all at once. He can't wrap his head around the fact that Dean is leaving, that they'll have to say goodbye to each other and that it could be permanent. He can't be angry with him for keeping it a secret, not know that he knows the circumstances, but he's still upset that Dean hadn't come to him for help earlier.

"Cas, you know I love you too, but it's too much. I can't put this burden on anyone, I have to solve it."

Castiel's voice is soft when he answers, pulling back to look Dean in his eyes. They're brimming with tears that he refuses to let fall, mouth twisted into an unmoving line. Dean is trying not to lose control of his emotions, and Castiel wants to prove to him that he can, that it's okay, that he'll be supported and loved. He reaches out to rest a palm along Dean's cheek, frowning.

"Why do you have to carry all of the weight?" he asks, gently rubbing his thumb along Dean's cheek. The tears finally spill over as Dean rests his hand over Castiel's, slotting their fingers together.

"Because my dad is already going through enough shit. Because no way in hell is Sammy getting this weight. Because I can handle it," Dean says, closing his eyes as he continues. "Because I have no idea what I'll do if my mom dies, and this is the only way I can think of that will prevent that from happening."

"Dean..." Castiel whispers, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. "It'll all be alright. I promise. You'll get through this and she'll be okay." He still isn't sure how to handle the fact that Dean is leaving, is going to a place where he could be killed; the aftermath of the shock is starting to set in, and Castiel finds himself pulling Dean as close to him as he can and refusing to let go.

"What if it's not?" It's like Dean's whisper is the quiet dam breaking, as he lets out a quiet sob and turns his face into Castiel's shoulder. They lay on the blanket together, clutching at each other and not moving, apart from Dean's shoulders shaking. Castiel tilts his head to press a kiss to Dean's temple, whispering the only words of comfort he knows into Dean's ear.

"It will be. I love you. I promise she'll be okay. You'll see, this will all work out."

"But I still have to leave you," Dean whispers, eyes full of pain as he glances toward Castiel. "Cas, I don't wanna leave you."

"It'll be alright, we'll figure that out later. Just let it out, Dean, let me carry your weight." Because it's Castiel's turn to be strong for Dean, his turn to be the shoulder he'll cry on, and he waits diligently for Dean's body to stop shaking, to relax into an exhausted sleep, before he lets his own tears fall down his face. He doesn't know what will happen next, with Mary or with Dean's commitment to another tour, and it's all he can do not to dissolve into gasping sobs.

He's sure that will happen soon, but tonight he has to be there for Dean and hold his emotions in. Some tears still slip out, carding down his face until they splash onto the blanket.

He isn't sure when he falls asleep either, clutching Dean to him like it might be the last time he holds him like that.

\--

Castiel stares at the Leviathan suspiciously, glancing over at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “Fishing?” he asks, mouth turning down. Dean’s smile, to his credit, doesn’t falter at the less-than-enthusiastic response.

It’s been a week since the night when Dean told him about the army, and Castiel has been spending as much time with him as humanly possible. Gabriel gives him as much time off as he asks for, and Sam too. He’s hired another worker, a college student named Garth who does good work. He’s told Castiel not to worry, that he deserves it, but Castiel can’t help but feel guilty.

“Yeah!” Dean says, tossing a fishing pole at Castiel. “Maybe a little swimming?”

“Dean, we didn’t bring our bathing suits.”

Dean just shrugs, winking over at Castiel. “Afraid of a little skinny-dipping?” Castiel just rolls his eyes before climbing into the boat. There’s a small bench in the front, along with a couple seats in the back. The front bench would hold a couple people comfortably, but Castiel has never liked boats. He blames Gabriel for making him watch Titanic when he was 12.

The boat shakes when Dean hops in, reaching over the edge to pull in the fishing supplies. Castiel grabs onto the railing of the boat, swearing lightly under his breath. The tip of the fishing rod drops into the water, and he pulls it back as quickly as he can. He grumbles unintelligibly, shaking the pole to try and get the water off of it. Dean chuckles behind him, and Castiel blushes when a kiss is pressed to the back of his neck.

“You good?” Dean asks, glancing at Castiel for confirmation. Castiel nods, determined to make the most of it. He sits down next to Dean on the back seat, trying to resist the urge to grab the railing when Dean turns the key and the boat roars to life. Dean skillfully maneuvers the boat back, clearing the dock and waiting for a moment before gunning it forward. The wind whips past Castiel as they head out to the middle of the lake. There’s no other boats around, and for a moment it feels like they’re the only two left in the world. He reaches out to grab Dean’s arm, feeling a little nauseous. Dean glances down at him in concern, before pulling the speed back and grabbing Castiel’s hand in his own.

“You okay?” he asks, squeezing Castiel’s hand. Castiel just nods and closes his eyes, enjoying the refreshing feeling of the water splashing onto his face. He doesn’t feel as nauseous anymore, and can’t tell whether it was Dean’s hand finding his or the lowered speed. Either way, he feels more comfortable, and leans against Dean’s shoulder to relax. It takes him another minute to open his eyes, catching on Dean’s stubbled chin before moving up to his content smile. Spontaneously, he leans over and presses a kiss to Dean’s cheek, smiling at the look of pure bliss on Dean’s face.

After five or so more minutes, Dean stops the boat and asks Castiel to help him with the anchor. “This way we won’t drift too far away,” he explains, as they both haul the metal piece over board. Dean lets the rope tug taut between his fingers before tying it off to the stern. He rummages through the cooler he brought for a second, before coming up with two brightly colored… things in his hand. Castiel glances down at them, brow pulling together in confusion.

“Lures,” Dean explains. “I didn’t think you’d want to put worms on hooks, so this is the next best thing.”

“Oh.”

“Here.” Dean grabs the pole, hooking the lure onto it, and handing it back to Castiel. “Try it.”

“Um,” Castiel starts, looking at the pole. “I’m not sure…” Dean laughs, coming over to Castiel. He turns Castiel around and stands behind his back, moving his hands to Castiel’s.  He presses his chest along Castiel’s back, pulling his hands back and whipping them forward. The line sails out to the sea, but Dean still doesn’t move. He’s very warm, and Castiel leans back into the hard lines of his body. There’s a convenient holster along the side of the boat, and Dean guides Castiel’s hands down until the fishing pole is resting there securely.

“Wanna go swimming now?” Dean asks, voice hot against the shell of Castiel’s ear. He shivers involuntarily, nodding. Dean pulls back, and Castiel immediately misses the warmth. He turns around, only to be greeted with the sight of Dean undressing. His mouth dries up, and he swallows heavily. Dean doesn’t seem to notice, still casually stripping out of his clothes until he’s clad in nothing but boxer briefs. Castiel quickly does the same, sitting on a small bench along the edge of the boat and holding his clothes in his lap to cover his swelling cock. Somehow, even with the cover, Dean figures it out. He sends a smirk toward Castiel’s crotch, which doesn’t help things at all, and falls backward over the side of the boat. The water splashes up around him, running over the side of the boat and hitting Castiel’s leg. He scrambles to the side, looking for Dean. He thinks he sees a dark shadow in the water, before Dean bursts out from the lake and grabs his shoulders, tugging Castiel in with him.

Castiel comes up gasping, scrambling for the boat. The water is absolutely freezing, and he can barely feel his legs already. Dean doesn’t let go, pulling him farther away from the boat. He shouts, trying to break free, but Dean holds fast.

“Dean, this is freezing!”he hisses, splashing a wave of water over at him. It hits Dean full in the face, water droplets spilling out from his hair. Dean blinks for a second, shocked, and Castiel revels in his triumph.

It only lasts a few seconds; Castiel gets a faceful of water in return, and he spits out the water. “Oh, it is on, Winchester.” He ducks under, grabbing at Dean’s legs and pulling him down. Dean thrashes above him, but carefully doesn’t kick at Castiel. He lets go and they float to the surface, getting a short reprieve before the war starts again. Water is thrown into his face and he blinks, trying to clear his vision to return fire.

Dean’s arms wrap around his chest and lock his arms to his side. Castiel struggles against his grip, trying to squirm away. He laughs, getting water in his mouth, and finally pushes away from Dean. They relax for a second, chests heaving as they tread water.

“Hey,” Dean says, touching Castiel’s shoulder. “Follow me.” He kicks away, swimming steadily in front of Castiel. The water splashes up around him, shining in the sun, and Castiel follows. Bird calls come from overhead, and Castiel turns onto his back to admire the clear skies. The trees are glistening over the water, and Castiel feels peaceful, almost like he was in a dream with just him, Dean, and the lake.

They swim for a couple more minutes before they reach a small cove, and Dean reaches back to pull Castiel inside. It’s almost pitch black inside, lit by small cracks in the rock that let the sun break through. He holds tightly onto Dean’s arm, following his motion until they both bump into a raised rock.

“We’re here,” Dean says, looking up at the rock. It’s smooth and a bit slippery, but he still clambers over it, reaching back to pull Castiel up. They shift back to rest against the wall, shoulders and arms pressing against each other. Dean’s hand finds his and squeezes it, lacing their fingers together.

“Dean, this is beautiful.” Castiel’s voice seems too loud in the silent cove, and it echoes back off of the walls. For a moment, the only sound is the water quietly lapping against the rock. He feels Dean shift next to him, before he pulls his hand away. Dean’s arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Castiel goes willingly. He rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s hard begins carding through his hair.

“When I was younger,” Dean says quietly, “me and Sam would swim out here all the time. It became an escape for us.

“Mom and Dad fought a lot when we were younger, over bills, lack of money, my dad losing job after job. I was about 8… Sam wasn’t any more than 4. We’d come out to the cabin with Bobby, because he didn’t want us in that situation, and I’d put floaties on Sam and drag him around the lake. We found this place when it was pouring outside, and the cabin was too far away. I was terrified, because Sam might get hurt, and then I saw this small outcropping of rocks. Pulled him over and we went inside, climbing up on the rock. I actually slipped and cut my hand, but I didn’t say anything. Just sat up here with Sam, waited for the rain to stop.” Dean takes a breath, pushing closer to Castiel.

“I didn’t realize that he had been crying, and it just - I didn’t know what to do, so I just hugged him and stroked his hair, tried to calm him down. And then he asked me something. He goes, ‘Dean, is Mom gonna leave?’” Dean’s voice dwindles down to a whisper, before fading. Castiel wraps an arm around his waist, lacing their hands together. After a moment, Dean continues, with a rough voice.

“I said, no, of course not, because what else was I supposed to say? Even though I was terrified of the same exact thing - I was so scared that we would get home and she would be gone, or my dad would be gone, and they wouldn’t be coming back. It was…” Dean trails off, rubbing at his eye with a fist. “Horrible.”

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Castiel says, holding Dean as tight to him as he could.

He isn’t sure how long they stayed there, curled up against each other, before Dean’s breath evened out. He let his head fall back, running a hand steadily through Dean’s hair. The wind starts blowing through the cracks in the rock, and Castiel almost misses Dean’s quiet whisper.

“Why is it always me?” he says, and Castiel doesn’t know what to do; he presses a kiss to Dean’s cheek, resting his forehead against Dean’s temple.

“Because you’re beautiful, and self-sacrificing, and you would never let anyone take this weight,” Castiel reminds him. “Remember? You told me that. And I couldn’t be more proud of you, Dean. Even though I’m terrified, and I hate that you’re leaving, I can’t help but love you even more for what you choose.

“Always remember that.”

\--

Castiel spends most of his nights in Dean’s bed, trying to make up for the time they would lose when Dean left. They spent every waking second they had with each other, whether it was going on dates or simply sitting in Dean’s apartment, not even talking. For all intents and purposes, Castiel has moved into the apartment. Dean cooks for him most nights, and on the few nights Castiel tried, all he ended up with were blackened bits of food. Dean joked about how all he could cook were pastries, and Castiel would accept the teasing with minimal annoyance.

Time flies, never feeling like it’s been enough, and all too soon, it’s the night before Dean leaves. Castiel has tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that it simply isn’t happening, but he can’t push it away any longer. Dean’s been quiet for the last few days, refusing to let Castiel leave the bed before noon; Gabriel has given Castiel the past week off of work, pulling in a new employee so he can spend more time with Dean.

Castiel’s laying against Dean on the couch, TV quietly playing in the background. They haven’t said anything about how Dean is leaving the next day, both silently agreeing to pretend that it’s just another night. A Star Trek marathon has been playing for the last hour, and Dean has been running his hand through Castiel's hair for about the same. He feels sleepy, lulled into it by Dean's hand. His eyes flutter closed, but he shakes himself awake.

Dean hasn't said anything for the past few minutes; a barrage of gunshots come on over the screen and he flinches back. Castiel feels Dean's hands tighten and he pulls away, sitting up.

"Are you okay?" he asks, resting in his lap. Dean swallows heavily, nodding.

"Yeah," he says, voice rough. "Yeah." He presses a kiss to Castiel's lips before falling back on the couch. "Just thinking."

Castiel knows of one way to get Dean to tell him what's bothering him, so he leans down and rests his mouth near Dean's ear. When he speaks, Dean shudders under Castiel's tongue brushing against the shell of his ear.

"Tell me, Dean."

"Not fair, Cas," he says, barely holding back his groan, and Castiel smiles in victory. He squirms around on the couch, and Castiel feels Dean's crotch rubbing against his ass. Dean seems to give up then, pressing down on Castiel's ass until he's completely settled in his lap, full weight on Dean's cock.

"You win," he says, looking up at Castiel with hooded eyes. "Now come here," he growls.

It’s like the colliding force of magnets; within seconds Dean is grabbing Castiel and crushing their lips together. Castiel is gripping Dean like he’s a lifeline while he’s drowning; there’s nothing he can hear or see or feel that isn’t Dean. Their mouths are sliding along one another, tongues only just skating across lips and teeth and cheeks. Dean’s hands are running down his arms and along his back, holding him in a tight embrace.

Castiel gasps, hands moving into Dean’s hair and running through it. He only pulls away from Dean’s mouth to breathe, unable to be without his kiss for more than a few seconds.

He’s aware it might be their last night together, and Castiel wants to do nothing more than show Dean how much he loves him. So he pulls away, groaning when Dean attacks his face, cheek, neck with his kisses instead, and leans his cheek into Dean’s.

“Bedroom,” he’s able to gasp out, lips brushing against Dean’s ear. Dean shivers underneath him, and then Castiel feels himself being picked up. He wraps legs tighter around Dean’s waist, gripping him tightly with his arms around his neck. Dean’s lips don’t leave his mouth for a moment after that, and after a few steps Castiel feels his back pressing against a wall. Dean’s hips are stuttering erratically into his own, and Castiel can’t do anything but move with him, head thrown back as he blinks up at the ceiling.

And then Dean is moving again, turning around to push open the door to the bedroom with his back. He kicks it shut, finally pulling away from Castiel’s lips. Castiel knows how utterly debauched he looks right now, and reaches out to still Dean’s hand when it goes to flick off the lights.

“No,” he rasps out, voice absolutely wrecked, but he doesn’t back down even when Dean looks at him with fire in his eyes. “I want to see you.” There’s a flash of understanding in Dean’s eyes, and Castiel can swear he feels his arms tighten infinitesimally before he’s thrown back onto the bed and Dean is on top of him. They rock together like that for what feels like hours, hands roaming everywhere. Castiel can feel the burn of orgasm starting in his stomach, building up to an unbearable crescendo. He pulls back, stilling Dean’s hips with his palms.

 

“Wait, Dean, wait." Castiel pushes Dean away from his mouth. "I'm too close, wait-"

Dean's fingers find his cock and start stroking along it, cutting Castiel's pleas off. "Good," he says, pressing another finger into his hole and almost immediately finding his prostate. Castiel bucks, groaning, and pushes his hips back onto Dean’s finger. Dean stretches him a few times, adding fingers, until he pulls out. Castiel whimpers, missing the pressure, but stills when Dean’s cock lines up at his entrance. He doesn’t wait for Castiel to get ready, pushing all the way in until his balls are resting against Castiel’s ass.

Castiel reaches around Dean’s neck and pulls him down, forcing their lips together while Dean moves in him. Almost every stroke has him rubbing against his prostate, and Castiel feels the edge of orgasm starting to press down.

“Almost, almost,” he chokes out into Dean’s mouth, tongues sweeping around each other. Dean grunts, picking up the pace until he’s pistoning into Castiel, unable to do anything more than breathe into Castiel’s mouth.

Castiel comes first, fingers clutching at Dean’s back and pulling at his hair while his cock jerks up against Dean’s stomach, coating both their chests in his come. Dean keeps going for a few more strokes, before he wraps his arms around Castiel and tugs him up until Castiel is sitting in his lap. He pushes up into Castiel, letting him sink down onto his cock, and thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s coming, teeth latching on to Castiel’s shoulder as he rides out his orgasm.

Dean relaxes against the headboard, Castiel laying on his chest. He pulls out, leaving an empty space where his cock used to be. Castiel reaches over to the bedside table for some wipes, and cleans both of them up. There isn’t a sound in the room apart from Dean’s haggard breathing, and Castiel tosses the wipes and turns so that he is facing Dean.

“Will you tell me now?” he asks, and Dean just smiles softly before leaning down to press his lips against Castiel’s forehead.

“I love you, okay?” Castiel just laughs quietly, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist and snuggling into his chest.

“Is that all?” he says, pressing a kiss to Dean’s shoulder. “I love you too. You know that.”

“It’s nice to hear it.” Dean’s arms tighten around him, chin resting on the top of his head. Castiel just smiles, closing his eyes and letting himself drift away, comfortable on top of the man he loves.

\--

They wake up tangled around each other the next morning, sticky and warm. Castiel blinks awake blearily, eyes searching for Dean's. He finds them staring back at him, Dean watching him with an unreadable look upon his face. He grins up at him, trying futilely to stretch his back. Dean doesn't let him move, arms tightening ever so slightly around him.

"How long have you been up?" Castiel asks, voice loud in the silence of the room. The morning light has just begun to stream in through the curtains, casting shadows across their bodies. Dean just shakes his head, leaning down to press gentle kisses against Castiel's shoulder.

"A while," he allows, mouth twisting. "Couldn't really sleep."

"Were you watching me?" Castiel asks, sobering.

"Yes," Dean says, not trying to hide it or be coy. "You're beautiful, and I don't want to forget."

Castiel sits up until he's face to face with Dean. Neither of them are grinning anymore, both reminded of the events of the night previous and what they have to face that day. Castiel leans forward, Dean's arms wrapping around him, and sighs. They sit like this for a moment, drawing comfort from the other's warmth before Castiel pulls aside the sheets.

"We should get up," he says, rolling out of bed to put on some clothes. "I'll make some breakfast."

Dean just nods, tugging on a pair of boxers and following him to the kitchen. Castiel starts preparing batter for cinnamon-apple pancakes, knowing that they're Dean's favorite. He doesn't pretend to ignore the fact that Dean is leaving later that day - it won't make it hurt less in the end. Dean is sitting at the table, head drooping. He looks exhausted and Castiel wonders how much sleep he really got.

"Dean," he starts out, letting the batter sit for a second. He moves to the table and sits across from Dean, dipping his head to catch Dean's gaze. There are dark circles under his eyes that Castiel didn't catch in the dim light of their bedroom, and he wants to do nothing more than reach out and fix everything for Dean. "Are you okay?"

"No," he replies, giving a sarcastic laugh. "I have to leave my entire family and the love of my life later today. I feel pretty shitty, given the situation."

"Sorry," Castiel says, stung. Dean had sounded so hostile, and even though Castiel knows it wasn't directed at him he can't help but feel hurt. Dean gives a frustrated sigh, running his hands through his short hair. They'd had it cropped down a few days ago as per military regulations, and Castiel still isn't used to it.

"No, Cas," Dean mutters, voice muffled. "It's not your fault, I just-" He blows out a hard breath, shaking his head. "Sorry. You don't deserve it."

Castiel is quiet for a few moments before replying in a soft voice. "Dean, you don't deserve this either."

Neither of them speak for a moment, and Castiel heads back to the stove, pouring the pancake batter into a pan. He hears a chair scrape behind him and then feels arms wrap around his chest. Dean's forehead rests on the back of his neck, a cool expanse of skin. He leans back into Dean, hands resting on Dean's.

"I'm sorry," Dean is whispering into his back, pressing kisses against his neck. Castiel tilts his head to make the side of his neck more reachable, but Dean doesn't move. "I'm so sorry, Cas." It takes him a couple more seconds to realize why Dean isn't moving, why his neck feels wetter than it should from simple kisses. Dean's shoulders are shaking as they hold him, and he tries to twist around in Dean's arms.

"Dean," he tries, pulling his hands to  his lips and pressing comforting kisses there. "It's okay, just -" He turns a little more until he's fully facing Dean. His arms come up and wrap around Dean in turn, pulling the other man into himself. "Shhh, it'll all be alright."

Dean nods weakly, hair brushing against Castiel's temple. There's a gentle kiss pressed to his cheek and then Dean is gone, back to sitting at the table and looking lonely and deserted. Castiel's heart starts to crack, watching Dean sit there looking lost.

 

When Dean speaks, he almost jumps.

“I already said goodbye to Mom, to Sam, and to Jess. Hell, even Gabriel. Castiel… I don’t want to have to say it to you.” He sounds lost, broken, and Castiel can’t help but go over to comfort him.

“Then don’t,” he says, leaning his forehead against Dean’s. “Promise to come back, instead.”

Dean laughs, but to Castiel it sounds more like a sob. “Will do.” He pulls Castiel closer to him, murmuring a soft “Fuck the pancakes,” into his ear. They stay like that for what feels like forever, but Dean’s alarm on his phone blares and Castiel pulls away regretfully.

It would never have been long enough, not with Dean’s leaving hanging over his head. “Are you ready?” Castiel asks, and Dean gets up to grab his bags. He shoulders both of the larger ones, and Castiel goes over to help with the last one. “Then let’s go.”

Dean insists on driving to the airport, and Castiel doesn’t argue. He doesn’t think he could even if he tried. He was just too emotionally drained. They sit in silence in the car, and Castiel leans his head against the window.

He tries not to think about the fact that Dean might never come home. None of the time they’ve had has been enough for Castiel, and he thinks he could have lived his entire life with Dean.  It hurts to think that he might not get the chance too.

"Cas?" Dean says quietly, still staring stone-faced at the road. Castiel lifts his head from where it was resting against his arm and turns to Dean. Dean's knuckles are white where they grip the steering wheel, and he isn't looking away from the road.

Which is good and safe, and all, but this is Dean.

"Yes?" Castiel reaches a hand out, before pulling it back and coughing awkwardly. Dean is quiet for a moment before answering, and his voice is hoarse.

"Go back to my apartment today. I left something there for you.The keys are there, too, if you want to -" Dean trails off, glancing over at Castiel for the first time on the entire car ride. "I mean, I've already paid rent for the rest of the year, so it's open. If you want." Castiel bites down hard on his tongue to stop himself from agreeing desperately, knowing that Dean still has more to say. "And please, just-" Dean stops talking and Castiel reaches over, pulling one of Dean's hands off of the steering wheel and into his lap. He strokes Dean's hand softly, encouragingly. After a moment, Dean sighs heavily and pulls the car over to the right shoulder of the road.

"I can't do this, Cas." His eyes are wet and he's trembling. "I can't." Immediately, his hands are pulling Castiel toward him, and Castiel slides forward on the bench seat until he can wrap his arms around Dean's shoulders. He rubs along Dean's back, letting his own tears flow onto Dean's dark shirt. Castiel feels his own shirt becoming damp from Dean's tears, and squeezes his eyes tighter.

And then Dean is talking again, voice slightly muffled into Castiel's trenchcoat. "I thought it would be easy, going back, but it's so much worse, because now I have you, and Charlie and Gabriel, not just Sammy and Mom and Dad. I can't leave you, Cas, I just can't." Castiel bites his bottom lip, fingers digging into Dean’s skull.

Castiel is crying harder now, left hand in a hard grip on Dean's back, as if somehow he can grab him and pull him away from the dark despair of war and death. But he's no angel, and he can't tear Dean away from this. He doesn't know what he can do to protect the man he loves, and he just holds on, even though he knows it will never be enough. He doesn't want to let Dean leave, because he might never be able to hold him again. That's why Mary and John hadn't come with them - they knew that the two of them needed time alone.

Castiel takes a deep breath, hating himself for what he's about to say next. For so long, it's gone unsaid, but it's the only way that he'll be able to let Dean go. The only way that Dean will be able to leave.

"Dean, you have to." It's a painful truth, one that both of them have tried so hard to ignore. Dean won't stay back when someone needs his help, even if he puts his own life on the line in the process. He wouldn't be Dean if he did, and Castiel wouldn't love him as much as he does. Castiel clings to Dean, never wanting to let go. With a shuddering breath, Dean pulls back. His eyes are red, and he doesn't look at all composed. His hands are shaking and Castiel grabs them, rubbing them comfortingly.

 

"Let me drive," he persuades Dean, awkwardly switching seats. Castiel presses a quick kiss to Dean's cheek when they're resettled, before pulling off the shoulder and maneuvering the car to the airport.

Dean pulls a tape out of his pocket and gently puts it in the Impala's tape deck, leaning his head against the window as the first beats begin to play. It's not his normal style of music; there are no hard rock beats, no guitar solos. It's quiet and soft, and it makes Castiel want to cry again. The rest of the drive to the airport is spent in silence, Dean keeping his eyes closed and Castiel staring stiffly ahead, trying not to let the tears fall. Once the first one does, he knows he won't be able to stop.

They pull in a couple minutes later, and only about half of the tape has played. Dean stares wistfully at where his rock tapes are stashed in the glove compartment before running his hand along the dash. He has a sad smile on his face, and he gently pats the dash before getting out of the car. Castiel tries not to lose it when Dean finally gets out, rubbing harshly at his eyes. He can't lose control of his emotions now; Dean still needs him to lean on, still needs him to be the strong one. Castiel's cried on his shoulders enough times; it's Dean's turn to be the vulnerable one.

He gets out of the car and makes sure to lock it. If Dean has to leave his baby behind, Castiel'll be sure that it's taken care of. Sam will do the same. He knows that Dean trusts them enough to do so. The luggage is all in the trunk - a couple of small bags, none of them larger than a duffel - and Castiel swings around the back of the car to help Dean carry it all in.

Dean's hand finds his once they've slammed the trunk shut, each carrying a bag. Castiel squeezes his hand, swinging the duffel up over his shoulder. They walk close together, his head eventually falling to rest on Dean's shoulder. He walks robotically, wishing with each step they took that Dean didn't have to go. The airport is stuffy, crowded with locals and tourists and officers. It's a hassle getting through to the baggage check, but it means that he spends more time with Dean.

Dean, for the most part, shows remarkable strength, acting cool and confident with the workers. He doesn't seem nervous or upset; Castiel's stomach, on the other hand, feels like it's been twisted and turned until it doesn't resemble anything living. He doesn't understand how Dean can be so composed, when he feels like his world is ending. Perhaps it's the military training in him, or Castiel just isn't as strong no matter how hard he tries.

When they reach the security line Castiel stops dead, pulling Dean to the side. He doesn't know what to say; it's the last area he can go to before Dean and he have to separate. Dean will go on to the military base and Castiel will go back to Dean's apartment. He hasn't decided if he's going to stay there or not - maybe Sam would feel more comfortable around his brother's things. But Dean asked him, in a way, and at this point Castiel will do anything he asks.

They stand apart from the crowd, and he doesn't know what to say. His mind is screeching to a halt as he stares at Dean, people rushing around them. Dean looks scared and confused, nothing like the cocky man he was acting as only moments before. Their luggage falls to the floor as Castiel pulls Dean in, wrapping him in a tight hug. Dean clings to his jacket, heaving desperate breaths against his neck. They had refused to say goodbye the night before, knowing that it would make it harder. Time slows, and Castiel wishes he could just stop it altogether.

"Cas, I don't want to let you go yet," Dean admits, tightening his hold on Castiel. His words are broken and his voice is hoarse, lips moving against Castiel's neck. "I can't do it."

Castiel presses a gentle kiss to Dean's temple, rubbing his shoulders. Tears are coursing down his face, no matter how hard he tries to stop them, but he doesn't care anymore. If people are staring, let them. He won't let his last few moments with Dean be tainted by anything.

"Dean..." he says, pulling back from Dean. He presses their foreheads together, breaths mingling in the space between their lips. "I love you so much." His voice cracks on 'love', and his hands curl into Dean's hair. Dean's hands are settled on his waist, a bruising grip that Castiel doesn't ever want to disappear. "Be safe. Please."

With that, he kisses Dean chastely, a gentle brush of lips that has him breaking apart inside. Dean's tongue swipes once against his lips before retreating with him. He pushes back on Castiel's shoulders, keeping them close together. They aren't touching apart from his grip on his shoulders, but they're close enough that Dean's bright green eyes are the only thing Castiel can focus on. Dean presses another kiss to his lips, a quick taste, and then steps back, holding onto Castiel's hands.

"I'll be safe," he promises, bringing Castiel's hands to his lips. He whispers against them, lips stroking against his thumbs. "I love you too, Cas. Forever."

"Always," Castiel echoes, pulling his hands out of Dean's grip. Their time is up, much as he has prayed and pleaded otherwise; Dean has to leave, be pulled away into a world Castiel never wanted him to see again.

"You better write to me," he says, trying to smile through the tears. Dean grins back at him, a sad version of his normally cocky one, and brushes a hand across Castiel's cheek.

"I promise." Dean drops his hand and Castiel steels himself for the moment Dean walks away. He nods, pinching his lips together in a tight line. Dean shrugs his bag up to his shoulder, half-turning away. Castiel feels his heart break, fully this time, as Dean moves away from him. Almost like an afterthought, Dean turns back with a crushed expression on his face.

"The tape?" he says. "Take it out when you're driving home." Castiel wants to ask why he can't just look now, but honors Dean's request. He doesn't want their last seconds to be them arguing. He waves as Dean backs away, eyes locked on Castiel's. The crowd pushes around him and he loses sight of Dean for a second before he reappears at the security line.

"You better come back, Winchester!" Castiel yells, hands cupped around his mouth. He can see Dean snort from where he's standing, still waving to Castiel. A faint "Better not be to you shacking up with the gardener," comes back to him and he smiles to stop himself from crying. He has to have faith that Dean will come back, that he'll be safe and Castiel will have him back in his arms in no time.

He only turns away once Dean's out of sight, arms around his chest as he tries to hold himself together. People glance at him wonderingly as he leaves, some with sympathy and some with concern. No one says anything and he keeps moving, pushing his way through until he finally breaks free of the claustrophobic feel of the airport. It's only when he's in the car that he lets himself truly break.

Remembering Dean's request, he presses the eject button and turns over the tape. There's a big piece of white paper covering most of it, and Castiel feels tears starting to fall again as he glances at it.

The cover of the tape reads "FOR CAS" in big black letters, tracklist on the other side. It's Dean's way of saying 'I love you', and Castiel rests his head in his hands and tries not to cry.

\--

Cas,

It's been about a week and a half since I left. I tried writing this letter about a hundred times since then, but nothing I ever wrote really worked. None of the troops on the base have been deployed yet, which is good news I guess. Not sure how long it will last.

There's this tense peace between us and them, and I think everyone's waiting for the shoe to drop. I know I am, even though I hope it never does. I've actually been promoted, up to a Lieutenant. Pay's higher, so I can send more of it back to Mom.

How are things on your end? I mean, the army is screening everything that comes in so you can't really write back, but maybe asking normal questions will make me feel more composed. I'm still scared, Cas - of losing you, of losing Mom, of becoming one of those broken shells that come back from war and don't recognize their own family. I don't want to become that.

Damn. I wanted this letter to reassure you.

I've met a couple of great people over here - and no, I still can't tell you where it is. There's Meg, and lemme tell you she is one tough chick. I would never want to get on her bad side. She saw one of the pictures of you that I keep in my pouch, and now insists on calling you Clarence. Not sure if you ever saw the movie, but I can kinda see where she's coming from.

And then there's Rufus. He actually knows Bobby really well, and though he's a bitter old guy he really knows his stuff. He's one of the higher-ups around here... doesn't really go on missions much, and pretty much works exclusively with this old technician named Frank. This guy, Cas, is crazy. Like actual dingo-ate-my-baby crazy (And I know you won't get that - ask Sam). Told him I knew Bobby Singer and he almost blew my brains out before I was there 24 hours.

Don't go getting all protective over me. He wouldn't have shot and plus, I wouldn't have gotten hit. Have a little faith.

Hope everything is okay back on the home front. I'll try to call soon, but for now I think letters are all I can do. Make sure Sam goes outside every once in a while - without someone there to remind him that he isn't a robot, he just turns into one.

Missing you a bunch.

Love,

Dean

****  
  


Castiel folds up the letter, tucking it away into his jacket pocket. He sits on the bench and shivers, blowing warm air into his gloved hands. Is bitterly cold outside for a day in March, and he hadn't relished having to catch the bus almost everyday ever since his brothers car broke down. Gabriel hitched a ride in with Kali every day - who, for some reason was in their apartment more than not - but she'd refused to do the same for Castiel.

Typical. And it's only a matter of time before Gabriel ends it anyway, so he figures he can deal with the inconvenience. Besides, it gives him some alone time to read Dean's letters without being subjected to Gabriel's whining. Or even worse, the more uncomfortable sounds of his brother and Kali having sex. Which, to Castiel's horror, happens at least three times a week.

He's taken to staying over at Dean's apartment on the days he doesn't work. After Dean left, he had gone to the apartment that day. He had to force himself to open the door and see all of Dean’s things where he had left them, but the worst part was seeing Dean’s military jacket laying on the couch. Sam must have gone over after Dean and himself had left, or Dean had left it behind without Castiel noticing. It still hurt.

But now, the apartment brings him a small level of comfort. It's peaceful there, and he doesn't have to make a long trek to work. The apartment is still bare, only two weeks after Dean's left, and Castiel makes a promise to liven it up a bit. Charlie and Mary have both offered up some pictures that they have of him and Dean - and he doesn't remember ever posing for pictures, so they must have taken them discreetly.

He appreciates the offer, and even purchases a couple of frames to use. Maybe when Dean comes back they can take a couple more.

He wonders when exactly that will be. For now, he's content with having some scarcity in the apartment. Maybe he'll buy a rug. Green, like Dean's eyes and the color of the pond when the sunlight cuts through it.

The bus honks, pulling up to the curb, and Castiel jumps up, hurrying onto the bus. It's almost completely bare - understandable, for only 8 in the morning, and he takes an empty seat near the front. The ride is calm and quiet, giving him some time to relax before he has to go into the chaos that is the bakery near Valentine's Day. They've had to call in some temporary assistance, a sweet boy named Samandriel. He's a cousin of his, and it's a pity they only need him for the next week. He does good work.

Castiel settles against the window, thoughts spinning in his head. His fingers absently slide to where the letter rests, pressing it down into his chest.

He wonders when the next one will come.

\--

Hey,

Good news and bad news. Which do you wanna hear first?

Guess I'll go with the bad news. I'm pretty sure that's what you would have said anyway. I just know you so well.

It's hard to come off as joking in a letter, isn't it? Well, just to be explicitly clear - and I know how explicit you love to be, Cas - that last bit was a joke. A bad one, but... yeah.

Anyway, bad news is that we're getting shipped out in a week. Nothing I can do about it, of course, but not really looking forward to it. We're heading over for at least 10 months. We're gonna get further information then.

Good news is that we might be given leave in a month or two - just a week or so to come back home, before the long tour. So I might be able to swing a ride home, come to see you. And Mom and Dad and Sam, of course. Hell, even Gabriel. But mostly you.

Meg said that she wants to meet you when we get home. She says it like its a definite, and I kind of wish I had her confidence. Balthazar - he's another guy in my troop. He has a British accent and is kind of a douche, but he's good with a weapon - said that she's sweet on you.

I told her there was no way in hell.

And... that's really all the updates for now. Hope everything is well at home.

Love you.

Dean

****  
  


Charlie is trying to peer over his shoulder to read the newest letter that Dean had sent. Castiel pushes her away with a scowl, less serious than he'd intended it to be. She just rolls her eyes and pouts, and Castiel relents with a sigh.

"You are a child."

"Hey, I wanna know how he's doing, too," Charlie protests, folding her arms. Castiel rolls his eyes and hands her the letter. Her eyes skim it quickly, letting out a gasp of outrage when she gets to the part where Dean talked about coming home. "Didn't even mention me," she complains. Castiel just grins unabashedly.

She hands it back when she's done, eyes bright. "I'm glad he's doing okay. And he might actually get to come home? That's awesome."

"I know."

Her eyes glitter deviously. "Think you'll, uh... have a 'catching up' session?"

Castiel blushes, turning his head down self-consciously. "Perhaps." Charlie's squeal of excitement nearly deafens him, and he lifts his head to glare at her. She doesn't look apologetic in the least, instead smiling triumphantly.

"I knew it," she crows, and Castiel just shakes his head, tucking the letter in a safe place until he can put it in the box with the other. Sam's offered to give him a ride back to the apartment after work; he had left some stuff in the spare room the last time he'd stayed over there and wanted it back.

Castiel had taken a couple of days off from the bakery, much to Gabriel's annoyance. But he couldn't say anything, not after Castiel brought up some of the more recent - and frankly, traumatic - experiences that he had gone through whenever Kali came over. He's planning to use it to redecorate the apartment. Since Dean's last letter a few weeks ago, he'd purchased a couple of colorful pillows and bedsheets for the apartment. Charlie had enlisted the help of her girlfriend, Gilda, who was ethereal and extremely friendly.

Castiel had almost wanted to give her a job. But at the same time he wanted to avoid giving Gabriel conniptions and causing him to try and get back at him with loud(er) sex.

The apartment at least looked lived-in, although Castiel feels like it'll be a couple more months before it really feels like home to him. But it's a start.

He hopes that Dean will like it.

\--

Had to disable a bomb today. It didn't go well. Bal is dead, he was the one closest to it. Meg has a nasty gash all along her right side. I know how that feels.

A little girl from the town died too. She was still holding her little doll. You'll probably hear it on the news. When there's an explosion in the war, the media is sure to exploit it. Like always.

These are the hardest casualties to deal with. The civilian ones, I mean. They didn't sign up for this bullshit, why are they the ones dying for it? I guess I just don't understand war. That's what Rufus says a lot. Bobby says it too, actually. I think those two would be best friends if Rufus wasn't in the army.

We're holding a private vigil for Balthazar tonight - the army isn't doing anything formal except for sending his family the Purple Heart on his behalf. They didn't find any of his remains.

They never do, out here.

...It's been a hard week. Frank went a little crazy and tried shooting Rufus. He's being held in one of the facilities here. No one is allowed to see him.

Cas...

Sometimes at night, I find myself wishing you were here. And then I want to punch myself for being so stupid.

I can see your face crinkling into that angry kitten expression right now. Chill out. I just meant that although I want you to be near me, I would never want you out here. Not under these circumstances.

Fuck, Cas. I really fucking miss you.

Dean

****  
  


Castiel smiles sadly, tucking the letter into the box with the others. He straightens and grabs his broom, eyeing the cluttered living room. Charlie and Sam had helped him move some stuff in that morning; really, Sam had helped him move and Charlie had stolen Castiel's doughnuts and criticized the entire thing. He was trying to add a more personal touch to the apartment, and had purchased a couple of things from the department store down the road to help with that.

Mary, sneakily of course, had snapped a photo of him and Dean when they were talking in the hallway at his house. Castiel doesn't know how she got it, especially because neither of them had heard her. The picture itself is gorgeous - Castiel had gotten it framed and planned to hang it up on the wall.

Now he understood what people were talking about when they told him how smitten he looked. And it was mutual - Dean was looking at him like he was every little important thing in the world.

His chest twinges a bit at that. It's another reminder of how much he just misses Dean; coming to terms with it all had taken a while, and even three months in its still difficult when he remembers that Dean could very well be gone for another year.

It's hard.

Which is why he's focusing all of his energy on the apartment. It helps keep his mind off of that topic, and the work calms him down. He doesn't feel bothered by vacuuming or dusting or any tasks like those - they ground him, help him disconnect from his emotions and stay calm and in control. Missouri had been proud of him when he mentioned that at one of their recent counseling sessions.

"Good for you, sweetie," she'd said, eyes twinkling as she pulled Castiel into a warm hug. "Knew you could figure it out."

She's been a godsend - she always seems to know when Castiel is coming over, and always makes sure that she's free for his impromptu visits. She listens to him talk about Dean for hours on end, adding in some commentary of her own. He grows closer to Missouri, even going so far as to invite her over for dinner at Dean's apartment while he's still working on it.

She was impressed with his progress, too. He'd replaced the stained carpeting with a matching color, but a softer material. The charred bits on the stove from their one remarkable baking session were totally gone, and Castiel had re-stained the cabinets. It was a work in progress, but he was proud of it so far.

He didn't tell Dean about the apartment during some of the few times they got to talk on the phone together. Those times were spent simply talking, about the most menial stuff and the most unimportant little topics, and Castiel wouldn't have traded those small moments for the world.

Granted, he would rather Dean didn't have to fight at all, but he'd come to terms with it. He let himself cherish the little things; the scratched-out mistakes in Dean's letters, the five minutes they talked on the phone together, and knowledge that Dean would be coming home in 6 months.

For now, it's enough.

\--

I'm sorry.

I can't come home for a while, and I won't be able to write. We're going to a deep undercover base and there's no personal correspondence allowed.

I don't have any details about whatever we're doing, but it doesn't look too good right now. Meg seems nervous, which usually tips me off that something bad is going down. She has that sort of sixth-sense.

Whatever happens, Cas, remember that I love you.

Dean.

P.S. if you even think about running off with some guy back home I just want you to know that I'm a great sniper. Love you.

As Dean's return date nears, Castiel starts measuring time by days and hours instead of weeks and months. It's hard to believe that soon he and Dean will be together again. It's been a long ten months, even with the occasional reassurance of a letter or two. He grins, crossing another day off of his calendar in a big, red 'X'. It's coming ever closer to the big red circle he's drawn.

He's planning to spend the weekend at the cabin, and maybe even swim over to the cove again. It was peaceful over there. And it reminds him of Dean - the blanket in the corner especially. And their initials are still carved onto the rock at the cove. He’d like to see that again.

\--

Hey, Cas…

I’m coming home.

Love,

Dean

\--

"C'mon, Cas," Gabriel whines. "I promised Sam we'd go to see his marching band at the KU football game. You can't make me go alone."

Castiel rolls his eyes at his brother. "Take Charlie."

"Can't. Gilda's in town. Charlie isn't gonna even be leaving bed for the next couple days."

"Gabriel."

"What?" Gabriel sighs, then relents. "Please? Sam would love to see you, and I promised him and Jess that I would drag you along."

Castiel looks longingly at the pile of clothes that need to be put in the wash and folded. He doesn't even really want to go to the game; for one, he doesn't understand anything about football. For another... he glances back at Gabriel for a split second, but doesn't miss Gabriel attempting to do the puppy-dog face. Castiel throws his hands in the air.

"Fine, I'll consider it."

Gabriel fist pumps the air, doing a little victory jig. Castiel purses his lips. "That isn't a yes, Gabriel."

"Sure it isn't," Gabriel teases, whipping a towel at Castiel's arm. Castiel grabs it in an amazing show of dexterity, and Gabriel stares open-mouthed at him.

"I'd run," Castiel quips, flicking the towel warningly. Gabriel takes one look at the towel and squeaks, darting out of the room.

"We're leaving at seven!" Gabriel calls over his shoulder, grinning wildly at Castiel. Castiel sighs, smiling, and heads off to his room to get ready.

\--

He and Gabriel see Jess standing outside of the stadium with Sam, giving him a quick kiss before he heads down to the field with the rest of the band. Gabriel calls her over and her face lights up when she sees them. She hurries toward them, waving.

Jess smiles up at Gabriel, greeting him with a quick kiss to his cheek. She does the same to Castiel, squeezing him tightly. Gabriel and her talk for a few moments about random things, and Castiel lets his attention waver.

He can imagine Dean at one of these football games, cheering for Sam rather than for any of the players, and grins. Soon, Dean will be home and then they both could come to a game together.

"What are you smiling about, bro?" Gabriel throws an arm around both of their shoulders. Castiel shakes his head, and Gabriel begins escorting them along to their seats in the bleachers. "Ah, here we are," he says, spreading a towel along the seats. There was rain last night, and the benches around the stadium are still wet.

Castiel begins scanning the field below for Sam, glancing near the trombone players. It's easy to spot Sam, seeing as he towers over most of the other students. Sam seems to be looking for them as well, eyes scanning the crowd. Castiel waves at Sam, motioning for Gabriel and Jess to join in as well.

Sam finally sees them, smiling wide as he waves back frantically. He's decked out in full-on marching band gear, and Castiel can feel Gabriel beginning to come up with new insults to try out the next time they talk.

The whistle blows and the game starts. Castiel tries to pay attention, but he's never really been a fan of college football and he still doesn't understand a lot of the game. But he's here to support Sam, and Gabriel is cheering madly next to him.

"Hey, Cas," Jess says, leaning over to nudge her shoulder against his. "I heard Dean's coming home early." Castiel grins over at her and nods, flushing. She smiles back at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

"I'm excited as well," Castiel replies, hugging her back. It's hard to believe, that Dean will be home next  week. He's already cleared it with Gabriel to take the entire week off to spend getting ready and then celebrating Dean's return. This time next week, he'll be driving to the airport to pick Dean up.

It almost feels too good to be true. But it's real, it's happening, and soon he and Dean will be back together.

He's only a beer in by the time the whistle blows at halftime, and then the mayor comes onto the field with a somber look on his face. He asks for the crowd to rise, hand clutching at a roll of paper in his head.

"I am afraid I have some tragic news. There was an explosion at a United States army base this past weekend, and the names of those affected were only just released," he says, remorseful expression in place.

Castiel's heart skips a beat, and he feels Gabriel eyeing him with concern. He tries to reassure himself, saying that Dean was already out of the base and that he was on his way home. He registers Gabriel's hand on his arm, rubbing comfortingly, and glances over at him.

"He'll be okay," Gabriel is saying, giving Castiel a confident smile. Castiel nods, smile feeling more fake than it should. Dean won't be hurt, he made a promise to him, he's gonna come back in one piece. The entire stadium is holding its collective breath. Castiel feels like a horrible person, wishing that anyone but Dean would have been hurt in the blast.

If it's Dean, he doesn't - he doesn't know what he'll do. Run, probably. Break, even more likely.

He waits with baited breath for the mayor to continue. The man is shaking so violently that he can barely speak. His eyes scan the field for Sam, finally spotting him sitting close to the field, instrument discarded next to him. His head is resting on top of his clasped hands, and Castiel wonders if he is praying. The mayor takes a steadying breath and begins reading, voice cracking and hoarse.

"Ash Carver." There is a wail from across the stadium, and Castiel vaguely recognizes the name. It's someone Dean knew from the Roadhouse, a 'genius with a mullet', as he put it. He wonders if it's Ellen crying out, or someone else.

He feels like the worst person on Earth, relieved not to hear Dean's name.

"Al - Alfie Prescott." The mayor breaks down at this name, and Castiel remembers that his last name is also Prescott. It may have been a nephew, or a son, and he feels tears start building up in his eyes. The mayor refuses an escort away, standing up straight and tall as he finishes the list of names.

"Brady Rogers." Castiel sees Sam's head come up, looking distraught. Jess is mimicking the look, hands over her mouth.

"He was Sam's best friend," she whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. "He introduced us." Castiel swallows back his own tears at the sight, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

"Gordon Walker." The stadium is silent for a moment before there's a scream of "No!" and a woman crying out. Castiel doesn't know why they didn't notify the families in private, rather than at a college football game. The crowd is tainted with the pain and suffering, and he's so overcome with emotion that he almost misses the last name read off.

"Dean Winchester."

Cas freezes.

Time seems to stop. There's someone sobbing, and someone else whispering a litany of 'no, no, nonono'. It takes Castiel too long to realize that it's him, and Gabriel's hand is taut around his arm. Jess is quietly sobbing to his side, and Gabriel has tears falling down his face as well. He isn't making a sound, trying to hold Castiel back from running back and trying not to completely lose it himself.

Castiel looks for Sam on the field but he's nowhere to be seen, and this just adds to the confusion and the denial. He finally breaks away from Gabriel, stumbling down the steps until he is at the railing, leaning over it and staring at the field below. Tears are pouring down his face and he pushes away from the railing, shoving people aside as he runs blind's for the exit. He can't be in there one more second; he feels like he will explode, and it just can't be real, it can't, it can't, it -

Footsteps are pounding the gravel behind him and he knows it's Gabriel, but he doesn't slow down.

He hears his name being called and pushes on, breath coming fast. His chest burns, but he can't tell if it's from the running or the fact that Dean is - that he's...

It isn't possible.

Dean was supposed to come home in a week, he and Castiel were going to be together again. It wasn't supposed to turn into this.

He runs faster.

Gabriel catches up, eventually. Castiel feels his legs weakening, tears drying on his face in the wind. He stumbles against the fence and almost falls, catching himself on the top of it. The points dig into his hands and he's relieved, to feel some pain other than what's threatening to burst out of his chest. The next thing he knows, Gabriel's arms are pulling him into his chest, letting him collapse to the ground. He buries his face in his brothers neck, choking out desperate sobs. He doesn't notice Gabriel whispering to him the same way he did after their parents had died and Castiel woke from nightmares of heat and decay. He doesn't notice Gabriel's hand carding through his hair, trying desperately to offer any comfort he can. He doesn't notice any of it.

All he thinks about, the only thing his entire mind is centered on, is Dean.

He's shaking, trembling, and his brain distantly recognizes it as a panic attack. His hands are clenching harder in Gabriel's coat, and he's unable to breathe. Gabriel is still stroking his hair, and he holds onto that feeling, trying to center on it like Missouri had told him to do. He tries to focus on the feeling of the gravel under his knees and on Gabriel's fingers running along his scalp.

It works, albeit slowly; he can feel himself calming down, although his brain seems to be on complete shutdown. The only thing running through his head is the mayor calling Dean's name, over and over and over again. It's louder than his gasping breaths, pounding through his head until he can't deny it anymore. New tears spill over his eyelids, cascading down his cheeks and soaking Gabriel's shirt. Castiel doesn't try to pull away, curling closer into his brothers chest as he tries to fight away the thoughts tormenting him.

Dean wasn't supposed to be dead. That's the only weak counter he has to the news booming through his head, and it's not enough. It's easier for him to breathe, but the focus shifts from the tangible to the chaos inside his head.

His head is screaming, and it takes him a moment to realize that he's screaming into Gabriel's jacket as well. Broken sounds are coming out of his mouth, mixed with sobs and half-catches of breath. And still Gabriel stays, an immovable plane of comfort and safety. And Castiel lets himself fall apart in his brothers arms, barely holding back from sinking into the black tide in his mind.

He has no concept of time passing or of anything outside the cocoon of his brothers arms. But it's dark when Castiel's tears finally run dry, and he's filled with a bleak numbness instead of the soul-crushing heartbreak he'd fought through. He doesn't say anything when Gabriel tugs on his hand, simply accepting his help to stand and holding onto him until they get to the car. Castiel slides into the passenger seat of his own volition at Gabriel's request. His eyes are half-lidded and blank, no sign of any emotion apart from a bone-deep weariness etched in them. Thankfully, Gabriel doesn't say anything on the ride home; he continuously glances worriedly in Castiel's direction; Castiel registers it but doesn't react, too emotionally and mentally exhausted to break out of the pain and disbelief clouding his mind. It's not screaming anymore. It's absolutely silent, no denial of any sort coming through. It's despair, and he doesn't try and force his way out of it.

They get to the apartment in what feels like no time at all, and Castiel blindly follows Gabriel inside, still holding on to his jacket. He's led to the bedroom, and Gabriel carefully puts him on the bed, like he did when they were kids and Michael was too busy to properly tuck him in. Gabriel pats Castiel on the shoulder, pushing him down until he's laying flat. Gabriel doesn't try to take off his clothes, instead squatting at the end of the bed to take off his shoes.

He pulls the covers up, ruffling Castiel's hair with affection. It's taken Castiel this long to notice, but Gabriel's face is wet. His eyes are red as he lets go, pressing a hand to his mouth to keep his emotions in. Castiel reaches out to try and touch him, to show him that it's okay to break down. But his hand falters, missing the curve of Gabriel's shoulder. Gabriel is shaking, trembling as he sits on the edge of the bed; his back curves as he puts his face in his hands.

Castiel whimpers behind him, praying to God that it's all just a horrible nightmare that will end. He feels tears start falling from his eyes; he's surprised that there are any left.

"He was supposedly to come back," he whispers brokenly. And that's when Gabriel moves, curling around him like they're the only two left in the world. It feels like they might be, in a quiet apartment that isn't where Castiel wants to be. And Gabriel is crying just as much as he himself was earlier, wrapping Castiel in an embrace.

"I know," he's whispering, voice cracking on each syllable. Castiel doesn't want to think, doesn't want to feel anymore so he doesn't let himself, just curves toward Gabriel and shuts his eyes. He lays there, shaking and sobbing, until falling into fitful dreams full of things that he forgets can no longer be.

The sun wakes him the next morning and he twitches awake, slowly registering the feeling of arms sprawled over his chest. He blinks blearily, gaze meeting honey-colored hair. For a moment he's confused, before the previous night's events come rushing back.

Dean.

Castiel starts hyperventilating, scrambling away from Gabriel and almost falling off the bed. He feels his way to the wall, pushing back against it and trying to calm himself down. A tired gaze peers over the side of the bed, growing sharper when Gabriel recognizes him. Castiel pushes him away when he gets close, hugging his knees and burying his head in his arms.

"Cas?" Gabriel asks quietly, moving forward cautiously. Castiel just shakes his head, shoulders shaking as he tries to get a hold of his emotions.

"Tell me it isn't real," Castiel begs, looking up at Gabriel with a tear-stained face. "Please."

Gabriel's face contorts into a heartbroken expression before he reaches out to Castiel and pulls him into his arms. "I'm sorry," he says. "I can't."

\--

He still doesn't understand loss, but now he knows the pain it can bring. People sometimes say that when a loved one dies, it's the first thing you think of when you wake and the last before you fall asleep.

Castiel knows what it's like. He gets up thinking of Dean, of his bright green eyes that used to look at him with such wild abandon, giving away every emotion that he didn't say aloud. He goes to bed and thinks of Dean, of how they used to curl up together and just be, without complication. And as an added torture, dreams come to him in the night. Of Dean gasping against sheets, of him simply standing across from Castiel and holding out a hand, of lazy kisses traded under the setting sun.

Castiel wants to burn the images from his mind, wants to be rid of the heartache and the pain and the absolute despair of it all.

But that might mean forgetting Dean, and Castiel could never want that. Could never bring himself to regret the time they spent together, however short. He would do it all again, given the option, even if it had the same tragic end.

Sometimes he rails at fate. Screams in his head, about the unfairness of it all and how it was too soon, too soon. He's never been one for destiny, not since his parents were killed, and he refuses to believe that this is another act of fate. Dean was stolen away from him before they'd even really had a chance, and Castiel rages. Gabriel's woken him from more than one nightmare, where Dean's been killed in numerous grisly ways and Castiel is always there. He begins to fear sleep, because he doesn't know what to expect. He'll either dream of Dean dying or dream of Dean in his arms, and he isn't sure which is worse.

Sometimes he wonders if grief can drive you insane. Because Castiel feels that way sometimes, pretending that he can hear Dean laughing just out of sight, or completely ignoring Gabriel when he asks a question. The latter isn't intentional, not like it was before... Castiel simply won't hear him, won't register that someone is talking to him because he's off in a world of his own. The worried looks that Gabriel keeps giving him should be alarming, but Castiel doesn't pay much attention anymore.

Sometimes he prays. And then wonders why he bothers.

\--

Dean gets a proper military funeral. It's set for two weeks later, and it's both too long and not long enough. They learn the truth just beforehand, about what happened. Dean had been killed in a routine mission, evacuating a city before the military could stage an attack on what they thought was a terrorist base. They had been right, but the enemy had found out that they were planning an attack. Every troop that had been involved had gotten caught in the ambush; there were barely any survivors. Dean was, apparently, a hero. He'd gotten almost every innocent family out of the area before being trapped in a falling building by enemy gunfire. Somehow he’d gotten out and gone back to the base, where everyone was toasting him for saving so many lives.

Castiel had needed to leave before he could hear the end of the story. Gabriel found him ten minutes later, vomiting in the bathroom. His entire body was shaking and he gripped the edge of the toilet weakly, tears cascading into the water below. Gabriel helped him stand and loaned him a handkerchief to wipe his face with. He'd made him wash his mouth and escorted him out of the bathroom.

The ceremony had been almost unbearable. There weren't any viewing hours, or any time before they were called into the church for Castiel to gather his thoughts. No one was speaking much. Castiel had been asked to be a pallbearer, and accepted. He hadn't realized how hard it would be, carrying a casket. The wood dug into his shoulder and cut into his hands. And still he walked, trying not to let his tears fall before they even reached the front of the church.

He was asked to speak, to talk about Dean and what he meant. And he tried. But how could he put it into words, everything that Dean was? He tried, but after tossing 6 scraps of paper stained with tears and ink he gave up, choosing to just wing it.

When it's his turn to speak, he stands shakily, giving Gabriel's hand one last squeeze before going to the podium.

"I met Dean a year ago, at my brother’s bakery. He was kind of rude, actually, but that fell away when we started talking. He was funny and sweet, and for some reason he came back after that day. Every day, to be clear. So we talked more, and more, and I realized I was starting to fall for him." He takes a deep breath, throat tight. "And sometime after that he fell for me.

"It's hard to find the words to describe Dean, because he was so much more than I can say. He meant the world to me, and to everyone else who knew him. He was selfless, and loving, and I honestly don't know how I can go on without him." He looks into the crowd and sees most of them crying. Mary and John are holding hands, leaning on each other for strength. Gabriel had moved to sit near Sam and Jess, pulling Charlie along with him until they all were silently supporting each other.

"But Dean... he would have wanted me to. Told me as much. So I'll find a way to. Even if it hurts. Because Dean wouldn't want the world to stop spinning, even though it feels like mine has." Castiel's voice breaks and he realizes that his face is wet. The audience is completely silent, and Castiel has to look down. His eyes are burning and he can't speak; it feels like there's a lump in his throat.

He wipes at his cheeks and goes to sit beside Gabriel. Almost immediately his brothers arm is around his shoulder, pulling him against his side.

"Did good, kid," he whispers, ruffling Castiel's hair. Castiel nods shakily, face falling into his hands. The funeral continues on.

The burial is worse. There isn't even a body. That's the worst part. Just an empty casket to be lowered into the ground, like the empty prayers of the priest that don't mean anything. Mary doesn't wear anything to cover her now bald head without shame, only standing from John's help. Silent tears had fallen down her face when Sam wrapped an arm around her waist earlier; now, the three of them bent their heads as if on cue, and Castiel feels his heart break again. They'd all lost something.

Apparently, Dean had wanted Castiel to have the flag that represented his service. When the soldier had wrapped it up into the symbolic triangle and handed it to Castiel with a whispered apology, Castiel had wanted to throw it in the mud. Gabriel must have recognized the intent in his eyes, shaking his head firmly. Castiel had kept the flag, wrapping his arms around in and squeezing, as though it would relieve the vice around his heart. He'd half-heartedly tried to give it to Mary, believing that she deserved it more than he. But she had only shaken her head and tried to smile through her tears, patting Castiel on the arm.

"My son wanted you to have it. I wouldn't dream of going against his wishes," she had said, pulling Castiel into a tight hug. "Okay?"

So now he stands on the outside, next to Gabriel and Charlie. He hadn't been able to get too close, remnants of his nightmares floating through his head. The casket is lowered into the ground and he barely even blinks. He had been crying almost non-stop for the past two weeks, but now... he just feels empty. Numb. The first bit of dirt is thrown and he stands there, unmoving, gazing blankly at the gravestone inscription.

DEAN WINCHESTER

Beloved son, brother, and friend.

"Angels are watching over you."

And that's when Castiel breaks. Gabriel pulls him up when his knees bend, before he can hit the ground. He leans into his brother, barely supporting any of his own weight, and lets the tears fall. For two weeks he's been pretending, pretending that he accepted Dean's death. It's only now that he realizes: it's a lie, he's been faking it all along and he never came to terms with Dean dying.

It finally hit home. And he and Gabriel sink to the ground as he buries his head in his hands. He vaguely registers Mary coming and wrapping her arms around him, melting into her embrace. Her hand strokes his hair, murmuring into his ear.

"It's okay, sweetheart, you've done wonderfully, you can let it out now."

Castiel lets go.

\--

Castiel finally goes back to the apartment a week after the funeral. Gabriel had been the one to convince him, even offering to go with him, but Castiel knew it was something he had to do alone. It’s hard to stare at the door and think back to other, better times, so he tries to push the thoughts away. With a steadying breath, he turns the key and pushes the door open. All of the pictures are gone, given away by Dean before he left for the war.

The case of trophies is still at the end of the hall, remarkably dusty. In the dim light of the hallway, it looks almost ominous. Castiel doesn’t want to go closer, heart skipping a beat in his chest. He flicks a lamp on and swallows around the lump in his throat. Like this, he can almost pretend that Dean is cooking away in the kitchen while Castiel remains in the hall, endlessly fascinated by the trophies.

He never had got around to asking Dean about them, either.

The apartment is almost scarily empty, and Castiel doesn’t want to move any further. But he knows that it’s the only way he’ll get any closure, and so he keeps moving forward. The kitchen is eerily silent, and though Castiel thinks he hears Dean’s disembodied voice singing Metallica while cooking up eggs for them, he knows it’s not real. He can almost see himself and Dean sitting at the table, bickering over something completely menial, before Dean spills eggs into his lap and they both laugh.

He leaves the kitchen and heads down the hallway, remembering when Dean would be too impatient to get to the bedroom and stop them in the hallway, kissing Castiel hard enough to bruise. The living room sits off to the side, furniture covered in plastic tarps to protect it from dust. Castiel wants to do nothing more than rip them off and lay down on the couch, remembering the times when Dean would hold him so close that it hurt. He walks over to the couch, hand reaching for the plastic, when he hears something crunch under his shoe. A picture frame lays there, cracked and torn.

It’s a picture of Dean and Sam from when they were younger, fighting over something that Castiel will never know about. Sam must have been here, he thinks distantly, because he remembered Dean giving that same photo to Sam a few nights before he left. He knows that Sam is hurting as bad as he is, but at least he has Jess there to comfort him on the nights when he wants to break out of his skin and leave the pain behind. Castiel only has Gabriel, and while it’s welcome, it just isn’t the same as being comforted by a lover.

He drops the picture gently onto the couch, clearing up the broken glass and making sure the picture is clear. He turns to make his way to the bedroom, almost scared to see what lies ahead.

Everything lies untouched. Castiel’s jacket is still in the corner, and Dean’s clothes are still in the closet. Whoever came by to clean the apartment before, whether it was Sam or Mary or John or all of them, left the bedroom for Castiel to find. Castiel hadn’t been able to move any of Dean’s stuff while Dean was away, and so he’d left it while he was living in Dean’s apartment. It was still all there, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything with it now that he knew Dean wasn’t coming back.

He had expected this to hurt. He just didn’t expect the memories to come back full force and make him feel like he was unable to breathe.  He falls back against the wall, burying his head in his hands. Images of himself and Dean dance around his head, laughing and smiling. He slides down the wall until he’s sitting, wrapping his arms around his legs and hiding his face. The laughter echoes around the empty apartment, paired with the gasps and moans of nights spent there, pounding in Castiel’s head until he’s sobbing from the memories.

As soon as they came, the memories are gone, and Castiel can think again. The silence of the apartment isn’t suffocating, not anymore, and even though he still doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay, he thinks that maybe one day he’ll be strong enough to move on.

And that’s all Dean would have wanted from him.

\--

"Dean was my first love. And my last." Castiel smiles, remembering how it all felt on that warm summer day. Since then, no one has made his heart beat as fast as Dean had. He's had a couple of flings over the years, not quite able to resort to one-night stands. None of his relationships had lasted very long, but they always ended on a good note and Castiel still considered some of his exes to be good friends.

He is content with his life - he has a loving family surrounding him, and two lovely children he can dote on. Whenever Sam and Jess decide to bring them by, at least. He knows that they're planning on having another one, potentially - Castiel wishes them nothing but the best.

If Dean was here, Castiel knows that he would love these children like his own, much like he himself does. But Castiel stopped playing this game years ago - at the time it had hurt too much, and he doesn't plan on revisiting that period of heartbreak and depression past what he told Mary and Robert. He had come to terms with it eventually, and now he can finally look back with nostalgia and appreciation. He'd rather have had a short time with Dean than no time at all - it remains the best time of his life, and nothing so far has happened to change it.

"So, if you find the one..." Castiel knows how silly it must sound to the children, being young and unaware of the pain life can bring, but he still offers up this piece of advice, hoping that somewhere down the line one of them will remember it. Maybe it will help somehow. "Don't let them go. And if you must, don't regret a moment of your time spent together."

He isn't sure when the tears started or why it took this long to notice them. Mary is the first to speak, voice wobbling. "So, would we have an Uncle Dean, too?"

"I like to think so. He would have loved you both very much." He pulls Mary and Robert to him in a hug, squeezing them tight. The boy looks stunned, and Castiel thinks that he might look at war differently now, without the classic teenaged boy admiration. Sam and Jess are due back any minute now, and Castiel lets go reluctantly.

"Now, you both go and get packed. Your parents will be back soon." They scurry off, laughing and shoving at each other, and Castiel knows he's right - Dean would have loved these two with abandon, because that's how he loved.

He turns back toward the water, closing his eyes. Phantom images dance around his head, and he smiles.

"For how long?" he says softly, and would swear that he hears 'Forever' whispered on the wind.


End file.
